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Canada I

Just like any vacation or every weekend, it’s over way too quickly.  Before you know it, here you are.  The important documents you left laying behind are still sitting there, waiting to be reanimated.  The bottle of lotion you set down before you left is still waiting on you to use and everything is as you left it in an eery and forlorn way.  Days ago, I was visiting castles and enraptured by the breeze from the Toronto Harbour tickling my hair.  Now, the hum of the AC is what keeps me company, so take a glance back with me on my sporadic adventure to Toronto.

The food:

They had an “Ontario bleu cheese” ice cream that tasted like sweet and salty cheesecake–yum!

Halo-halo from the Filipino festival.  It always reminds me of patbingsu.

One of my favorite drinks ever and they don’t even have it at home   Fresh musk melon with lychee jellies.

Early bird in Buffalo, NY.

Korean bulgogi-squid-kimchi stir fry at a restaurant called Yummy in Korea Town.

Best damn $1.50 spent.  Doubles from a non-descript West Indian food stand.  It’s curried chick peas, wrapped in fried dough, drizzled over with lots of spiced mango chutney.  Again, another thing I can’t get at home

A French-Canadian love affair in a dish, smothered with cheese and gravy: poutine

Lunch with a view in Kensington.

Fresh Mochi from a Cake Shoppe in China Town.

Gee whiz.  But fortunately, I stumbled upon a pie shop serving up delish frozen watermelons spiked with agave and lime.  YUM!  (Watermelon is my favorite fruit).

If I had an extra $100 to spare, this would’ve come home with me, pronto!

Supermodel pastries.

The people:

I don’t know if it’s just me, but whenever I venture out, the homeless population is one of the most striking things to impact me.  With over 2 million people living in a city where over 100 different languages are spoken, it makes sense that there’s a greater number of people in need of help than my much smaller city.

I saw this mission everyday I was in Toronto.  It’s something the universe obviously wanted to show me.

What I don’t think some people get is that a lot of those who are homeless are deeply inflicted with mental/psychological problems.  Some are hard to diagnose and in some cases, it becomes so detrimental to the person dealing with their illness that it becomes debilitating and then, easier for them to fall through the cracks.

and some are so frank, that you have to at least appreciate them for their honesty.  The sign reads “in desperate need of sharing a joint with someone.”  I once gave a man some money (I usually only give food, but that day was a busy exception) and he locked eyes with me and expressed his sincere gratitude.  It was a rather cold night, the men’s shelter was filled to capacity and he told me that the money would be going towards alcohol to help keep him warm that night.  Obviously, it’s not the most virtuous way to spend money, but it’s honest and it facilitates the need for a person to stay warm.  Whenever it gets very, very cold out, I always worry about those that have to spend the night out in it.  It’s something we take for granted (shelter from the elements) but it’s something that some people don’t even have.

Do you ever wonder how it must feel to be invisible?  It must be doubly hard for a woman, and especially a women who creates art…art to be looked at and appreciated.  Creating beauty with your hands and to be completely and utterly invisible.  Does it make you fade away bit by bit, everyday?

This guy may or may not have been homeless.  He sat there, for what seemed like an eternity shutting out the world around him out.  Before I could approach him, he walked away and I carried this image with me in my head for the entire day, wondering what he was shutting out.

Stop.  I just looked at the time and scrolling back, I realize that this post is getting way too long.  I think I’ll have to save the rest for tomorrow.

I’ll see y’all tomorrow and will be sure to post a video after that


Your Squishy Monster


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