Things I will miss about Toronto/Canada part deux

Some of these things are very Toronto specific while some, Canada as a whole. I've been thinking a lot more about all this as the date for leaving gets closer and closer. And on my ever expanding list are not just things I do every day, but things I do enough that I would miss desperately when taken away from them. I guess I wouldn't really be appreciating this much about Toronto if I didn't have one way ticket booked. But that's the beauty of it all I guess. You don't know what you've got until it's gone, as the cliche goes.

1. Yonge street (again).
I know, I know, I've already said this once. But seriously. Where else would you see someone biking down the road with a tabby cat sitting calmly on one shoulder? Or such an odd collection of people who would never be seen walking beside each other suddenly crammed up shoulder to shoulder? I guess I just love it so much because it changes so vastly from block to block. You can be in the (gay) village and then suddenly be at Yorkvilly bloor street only to move to the foody-fitness concious forest-hill and collide into more than your fair share of hipsters along the way. The street is an absolute treasure trove.

2. Toronto's many festivals.
From Caribana, to Octoberfest to TIFF to whatever else you wander into the middle of and exclaim "what the fuck is going on right now?" I love the festivals of this city. Most recently I spent the weekend volunteering at Word on the Street and then randomly walking over to Kensington where some sort of street performing/drumming fest was occurring (I think it was Octoberfest??). This weekend I am sooo excited for Nuit Blanche--twenty four hours of free art while drunkenly wandering the city? priceless.

3. Hamilton. In general, but specifically McMaster.

I had the magnificent opportunity of spending 4 magical (as Ilana would say) years at McMaster University. Unfortunately, the university was located in a sketchy as hell city called Hamilton. Now, however, I have an appreciation for the lovable polluted-crack-den known as Hamilton and I am desperately going to miss my frequent visits. From Locke street, to the Snooty Fox to Gore park, Hamilton is a beautiful little gem of a city. Thanks for all the memories Ham-town!

5. Brunch at Mitzi's sister.

I anticipate this next section being mostly about food. Mitzi's sister brunch is amazing and I love it. I am not a vegetarian, but if I were I bet I would love Mitzi's even more. Although they do have an amazing side of English bangers that I feel obligated to get every time I am there. Bangers! you are the bain of my existence.

6. The smell of Wanda's Waffles.

We've only stopped to get them once (and what an earth shattering occasion it was!) but the smell. The smell of Wanda's Waffles will haunt and tempt me until the day I die. It is this lovely mixture of baking things with vanilla and love and home that greets you every morning on yonge and dundas. My day will not be the same with out you Wanda!

5. Roasted Marshmallow ice cream at Greg's and Lemon ice cream at Choco Cava.

First of all, the roasted marshmallow ice cream is unreal--it is the most delicious and amazing thing you have ever tasted (it is right at Spadina and bloor beside the JCC--GO THERE!). But I just want to take a moment to talk about my new favorite place, and point out that it is probably better for my health that I did not really discover this place until a month ago. The Choco Cava is this little out of the way place in Delisle Court that is the greatest discovery I have ever made in my life. I am obsessed with their lemon ice cream. I am also obsessed with everything they do--their truffles are the most unreal combinations of random things that you wouldn't think work together but go so well. They have little chocolate concoctions that have things like 'salted Earl Grey chips' and candied ginger and everything is just so good.

6. My gym.
I figure with all this discussion of decadent foods I should bring up the fact that I also love my gym. I could live there. I wouldn't say that the exercises is my favorite part, but definitely the amenities--I probably spend more time in the whirlpool, change room, steam room and sauna than I do actually exercising. And it is all worth it...

7. The availability of romance novels.
I will be absolutely honest: I love romance novels. Anyone who knows me is not surprised by this. I am not a publishing snob, though I do appreciate good literary fiction and am obsessed with CanLit, there is something about spending an evening with a cup of tea and a good historical romance novel (inevitably involving a hero who is some sort of dashing duke named 'Rafe' ['F' included so 'Ralph' is not mistakenly pronounced] with a cover depicting some sort of shirtless Fabio-like man clad in only leather pants and possibly a fur vest). That to me is the perfect night in. However, as per my previous experience with overseas travel (I had a frantic backpacking bookstore rampage for any romance novel resembling the ones we get here) they are not as abundantly easy to come by. This thought is severely distressing to me. But, I have a plan--which basically just involves forcing my mother to mail me vast quantities of fabio covered romance novels overseas. She knows how much this means to me.

On Buying a One-Way Ticket

So I can honestly say that the most insane, the most gloriously freeing and the most terrifying thing I have done to date has been to buy my one way plane ticket to Scotland. I don't really have a plan, that much money saved or a job when I get there. I do have a very good friend willing to put up with me while I get on my feet but that's all. It feels so crazy, but at the same time I can't help but feeling that I should have done it long before this. Why didn't I do it after my degree? Why didn't I do it after high school? What was I waiting for? Instead I finished university, and in the same insane mad rush that everyone else was in at Mac, I decided that I needed a direction. I don't regret my choice--far from it. But after a year of doing a postgraduate, working my ass off in free labour in publishing, and then getting hired on to a job doing nearly free labour I decided that I didn't need to rush into my 'direction' anymore. I needed to actually take a minute and think about things, and get into a different head space. I love living in Toronto, but for some reason my life was beginning to feel so static.

I am lucky in that I have UK citizenship (I know! I don't have to deal with the dreaded visa requirements....) and can just up and leave. I used to live in England (when I was little) so I also have tons of family there that I could have prevailed upon as well. But I didn't do it before. Why?

The truth is that I was afraid. I was afraid to leave the little safety net that I had created for myself in Toronto, in Canada. I was terrified that once I did leave, I could never come back to it--that I would be homeless or shunned or something because I left the path of having a 'career' and 'settling down' that is the ultimate direction everyone seems to want you to go in.

It then dawned on me that I was more terrified of ending up 30 and married, popping out a few kids, living in the suburbs and working for a sub-par salary for the rest of my life than I was to move away to a different country and into the unknown. And thus, an idea was hatched. And then it became more than an idea, it became a plan (as planned as a 'non-plan' can be). And then, when my stable little bubble was threatened and I suddenly found myself without an apartment and living buddy, I actually had to think about what I was going to do. And I didn't want to move to another apartment in Toronto, or sub-let, or sleep on friends couches until I found somewhere again. If I was going to do that, I might as well just do that in the UK, right? And so I booked my flight, my one-way ticket that day. I felt like vomiting when I did it and I actually cried when the travel agent told me the payment went through (probably because I was so shocked I could afford it....), but I did it. I just decided to let go and actually try something. So what if I don't have my purpose, or my career, or my husband and 2 white kids (I don't know how my kids will be white, but they will in my nightmarish vision of the future...) and white picket fence and suburbian lifestyle. To be honest I am not sure that I ever want that. What I have now is the ability and freedom to choose what I want to do with my life. Maybe that is publishing, maybe not. Maybe that is two white kids, maybe not. But the next part of it is decided: it is happening in Scotland.

So if there is one piece of advice I can give? Buy a one-way ticket, anywhere. And just go.

I think I am going to start a running list of everything I think I am going to miss about Canada/Toronto/Calgary.

I already have a list of things I need to do before I leave Toronto, and (not) surprisingly my friends have been with me completing a lot of these 'tasks'. On this was of course going to Toronto Island, inhabiting Queen west as much as possible, trying almost everything on the menu at Fresh, seeing a movie at TIFF, etc. etc. But then I started to realize that these are definitely not the things I will be missing while living abroad. The things I take for granted and do everyday will be (shockingly obvious I know....).

And so....

1. Hot Yoga.

I am an addict for Hot yoga. I love it--though it is like excercising in hell, it is a hell that you want to keep coming back to over and over and over. You just feel so accomplished when you leave, and you've sweated your entire body weight in sweat out of your skin. I know it sounds gross, and it is, but it is soooooo good at the same time. And I've checked. No hot yoga studio in Aberdeen :(

2. Walking down Yonge street

Every morning, I wake up unnecessarily early, strap on my hiking boots no matter what dress I am wearing (yes, I am one of those women) and trek the one hour trek from St. Clair and Avenue to Yonge and Adelaide. Yes, it is far, but so amazingly entertaining. The amount of crazies that collect on yonge street in the early hours of the morning is brilliant. Throw in some random stops at pastry shops along the way (Petite Thuet! Oh how your chocolate croissant envelops the senses!) with my walking buddy Nina (yep there is a coworker who joins me in this madness...) and you get an amazing morning walk that I truly will miss.

3. The Prairies

I definitely took this for granted when I move from Alberta to Ontario, but I think I will get a chance to see them even less when I leave the country. And, correct me if I'm wrong, but I don't think there is anything near Aberdeen that is even remotely like the large, vast expanses of prairie land in Alberta that seems to go on for miles and miles--and then springs up into gigantic Rocky Mountains.

4. Chicken Shawarma from Mashu Mashu in the (Forest Hill) Village

Brilliant, excellent and all around amazing. The best is loading it up with baba ganoush and this awesome tomatoey eggplant sauce that I'm sure has a name but I am not privy to it. Their fries are delightful as well. The only thing off-putting is the amount of people that give you very pointed stares as soon as you enter the restaurant, as if you don't belong. Don't worry Forest Hill, I know I don't have the income bracket to belong. You don't have to tell me twice....

5. Gossiping about the Canadian publishing industry

Though I am sure this can still be done abroad (especially with you Katie!) it just wont be the same. Being at the forefront of CanPublishing (as lame as that may sound) and reading the latest on The Quill and Quire and then dashing off for postwork drinks to discuss all the scandals (Oh the horror! Random House axed it's International Rights department!?!) will never get old. Plus, does anyone else love the fact that the Quill has an anonymous tip line??
Why Canada? Why?

This list will expand as I think about it more. . .

A Note on the Title

Okay, I do realize that my blog title implies that I am a woman looking for her lost kilt, when women do not generally wear kilts....or do they? I mean, the thousands of uniform-clad Toronto girls I see walking around (especially in my neighbourhood of Forest Hill) in a kilt would prove that tradition wrong--unless they are just called tartan skirts. But the title "Where's my tartan skirt?" really does not have the same ring to it. And really just because women traditionally do not wear kilts should not mean we are restricted. Traditionally speaking we shouldn't wear pants either and you don't see any laws against that...well, in Canada anyway. And if my Women's Studies degree did anything, it was to teach me to degenderize (not sure if that's a word, but Women's Studies [and English lit] also taught me that I can make up words when needed...) the world around us. But I digress. Really, this whole post was to pre-empt the naysayers against my choice of title.
And anyway, maybe I did lose my kilt in Scotland...

My first post! It's all becoming real now...

So I decided to move to Scotland after a bit of upheaval in my living situation in Toronto and some deep deep reflection on where I was in my life. And when I say deep reflection I mean pure blind panic and seemingly irrational decision making.
But after deciding to just up and move to Scotland I felt truly happy and content for the first time in a while. And the more I let the decision marinate the more it sounded like the right one. It felt so perfect and glittering--just like when I chose to go to school out of province to McMaster University. And that was one of the best decisions of my life. Oh, I'm very much prepared for this all to be a perfect failure and having to fly home to Calgary with my tail between my legs. But if that's the worst case scenario, then I think I'm pretty set.