Which, puzzlingly enough, I did not. Returning to the big TO was not a joyous occasion, and neither was it a sad one. Well, finally getting to the house and falling face-first on the bed after a 15 hour journey that should have taken 10 hours was a cause of celebration at the point, if only because I was coming down with the plague that I had imported from Austria and really wanted to lie down. The 3 hour delay in Frankfurt was apparently because of a clogged toilet on the airplane. Seriously. Because somebody tried to flush a "foreign body" as the pilot put it. Whelp, whatever, we got there eventually, and by now I'm contented to the fact that whenever I fly, there are delays, possible future travel buddies beware.
But anyway, Toronto, yeah, it was like coming home, to a home that isn't home. If that sounds odd, then that is because it is odd, that feeling. I was really busy getting all my stuff one floor down into the new room, which in many ways reminds me of the old room at my first apartment. It's small, but has a high ceiling, it's very bright thanks to a fourfold increase in windows, and it really gains a lot of vibrancy because some previous occupant painted one wall bright crimson. Yes, crimson, not red. Red is to mundane a word to describe what has been done to that wall. It does work really well with that one poster...
Yes, that red.
Anyway, this is where I reside now:
Normal geometry, rather bright, that's how I like it. And for all those astute reads who wonder how I got myself so close to the wall and surmise I'm standing in the doorway, well I'm not, door's to the right, I'm standing in here:
That odd little closet I told some people about, and yes, that's the end of a tiny three-stair staircase leading down into it. No idea what I am supposed to do with this so far, but it came with a huge supply of coat hangers, for a start, and a rather nice view of the back yard. More on that later. Oh, and, that doorframe in the right of the picture is actually the back of what looks like the original closet of the room, which leads into this little hidden space. If you put a door in there, you'd never find this little cell. Yes, it has me raising eyebrows at the Victorians who originally built this house, just a little.
In other news, a film crew shot an episode of a post-apocalyptical miniseries in our basement and living room. I kid you not. It was part of an art project for one of my housemates, who goes to this film academy, and actually, as far as "post-apocalyptic torture chamber ambience, possibly haunted" goes, they couldn't have picked a better basement than ours. Branching off from the kitchen is a small sequence of irregular room cluttered with machinery and debris, and if I believed such things I be positive the damn place is haunted. So that was fun, especially coming home and seeing a rather graphic trail of (film)blood leading up to the house. The neighbours already think we're weird anyway, and I admit the looks the annoying lady next door gives me now are tinged with fear, and I enjoy that. How about complaining about our trash cans being in the way now, eh? Haha, I'm such a dork.
Other than that, the weather has shown its true face, finally, and I realized that it's schizophrenic to the extreme. Today saw temperatures close to 6°+ in the morning and rain, giving way to snow and high winds at -5° by midday, followed by a sunny afternoon at what felt like -20°, and is now slowly seguing into a freezing evening with light flurries of snow. I wonder why they even bother with the weather report, as it essentially says "Lol, I dunno." anyway. Now, I admit, right now I wouldn't mind even more snow, as it makes the churned field of mud that is our backyard seem a little less like the Somme in 1917.
Almost quaint, isn't it? I made the photograph so you can't see the huge pile of recycled cardboard we can't seem to get rid of, but hey.
Anyway, part of my new years resolution was not to be quite such a lazy bum when it comes to this blog, so expect more mildly interesting updates in the future as events pick up again after the “deer-in-headlights” frozen fear that accompanies the start of a new semester at this, one of the best universities in the country.
