Like any day
Early Thursday morning I leave for Chicago. It's my cooking-work. Four 12-14 hour days of preparing and serving the dishes we've been perfecting over the past few months to a panel of folks who evaluate them for a new restaurant down there. Sundae evening we get back on the plane and fly home. This ain't no vacation.
I have been sensitive over the past few days to the small loop of places I frequent in Toronto and the fact that I need to break this somewhat-boring cycle that is a result of my lack of time to do much else. I go to classes, work, appointments, SnB (though hardly ever these days!), shows, and then home again. Everything is downtown or a little north or west of downtown. Even a trip to the Beaches to visit my parents would be a bit of a thrill right now.
Natalie'd rented Garden State and I borrowed it from her last night. It had some funny cutenesses and some little details that I certainly enjoyed, but the end came across like a just-blown balloon that's been released to whiz around the room with an extended fart sound. It was that bad. Okay fine, it's good to see boys being ultra-emotional sometimes as it fucks with our feelings around masculinity a bit, but still I was left with an unpleasant taste of bubble gum in my mouth.