Saturday was my last full day in Toronto, and on the suggestion of a friend of mine I went to visit Queen Street West. I wish someone had warned me that once you start down this long stretch of East Canadian roadway, you really won't be able to stop. Storefront after storefront, large chains and indie boutiques, Starbucks and handcrafted coffee, not to mention shoes, shoes, and more shoes! This street alone makes Toronto the shopping destination, now if only I had money to spend! ;)
Sunday was a drawn out farewell as I rekindled flames from places I'd been as well as finally stopping in at places I was hoping to find. One of which being Bulldog Coffee which is off of Church Street. Name by Eyeweekly as the best coffee shop in the city, I figured I had to try it. First of all, great atmosphere and great service, the espresso in my Americano was to die for. My only qualm and this may be apart of my American need to always constantly be busy doing something with smartphones, laptops, and the like was that they didn't have WiFi. Now being a true Seattle girl at heart, I had mixed feelings about it. Sure it sucks for people who want to get some work done and enjoy a great coffee or two, but on the other hand maybe we are always "getting some work done" that we never really enjoy anything. Besides you can't notice if the coffee is burned if you are on your computer watching the latest Perez Hilton video.
My next stop was to the Ryerson University library for internet access, but that ended up being a bust.I read a good deal of Eat,Pray, Love in the meantime, which is a book that is slowly growing on me for a lack of anything better to read.
Lastly, I ended up at Woody's yet again. This time I spotted a slightly lit corner in the back of the bar and with backpack in tow and beer in hand, I approached the table and took a seat. Two hours, two beers, and a few chapters of E,P,L later I figured I was tipsy enough to brave the cold.
As a dragged my suitcase through the streets of Downtown Toronto, specifically down Adelaide and up Bay until I reached Dundas, I was hit with an all too familiar feeling. With freezing rain beating against my already depleted skin, I thought " Why am I here?". Now obviously after months of planning and saving, this should be the last thought on my mind, but I couldn't help thinking that this rain, this cold, this effing suitcase was nothing more than a Seattle mirage. My shoulder at this point hates me. I carried half as much luggage for twice as long in India, so why did I all of a sudden pack as if I were Carrie Bradshaw? Once I'm done criticizing myself for poor packing skills, I made my way back to my original query.
Why do I always have to be moving somewhere or thinking of moving somewhere? Can't I just settle down for a bit, plant my feet firmly in some fertile ground and hope to grow? Well unlike a rose bush or a lime tree, sunlight and a few carbon molecules aren't always enough. In all honesty, I learned more about the kind of person I can be in the four weeks that I spent in India three summers ago than I have learned in the past four years of higher education. The six moves in Seattle in the past three years have proved that I willing to go after as my back, bones, and legs can take me. So to myself I answer, " Why do you think you here? Because other wise you'd rot on the vine. And with that I seat waiting on my bus to Montreal that leaves 00:30 and in a matter of hours will be one step closer to making a decision and another step closer to finding what's right for me.
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