Boy, do I have some Tales to Tell...
It's hard to believe that only an hour away by plane is a fantastically and gloriously beautiful city that has an amazing amount to offer. A city that has the charm of Europe but the ease of America.
I just got back from my Toronto extended weekend. How glorious. It had been 18 years since my last visit. Much has changed. Much for the good.
We stayed in a wonderful B&B called
A Seaton Dream. It was out of the way from the bustle of downtown but close enough to catch the stunningly-easy-to-maneuver public transportation that dropped us anywhere we wanted to be.
The food, oh, the food. Delicious and far less expensive than one would think. Stand outs:
Omi sushi,
Terroni on Queen West,
Colborne Lane. Not a bad one in the bunch. Plus a fantastic neighborhood bar called
The Cobourg.
It was wonderful catching up with my old friend Diane. Plus lunch with my cousins was just amazing. I expected to see only one of them but all three came out and brought some great company. My commented as to how much nicer this side of my family is. I agree.
We had such a good time that we plan on returning in the Fall. I suggest that everyone does. Later.
I think I am taking this going on vacation a bit to seriously. I have not gotten this drunk in... I don't know how long.
I'm off to Toronto for an extended weekend.
I love Toronto. I have been a few times. It's so clean. It's so nice. I love Canada in general. They put the USA to shame.
I didn't think I would do much but an old friend is there and a cousin. And we are getting together. I will have fun. I hope I am not this drunk. Latedr.
I wish I could sing like Karen Carpenter. God bless her soul.
Talking to myself and feeling old. Sometimes I'd like to quit. Nothing ever seems to fit. Hangin' around. Nothing to do but frown. Rainy days and Mondays always get me down.What I got they used to call the blues. Nothing is really wrong. Feeling like I don't belong. Walking around. Some kind of lonely clown. Rainy days and Mondays always get me down.Good lyrics. Amazing soul when sung by her. She makes it seem so easy. I envy that. I envy when people make things look easy. I never feel that I do. It's what keeps me striving to do better. Sometimes to a fault.
Sometimes, I wish I could sing like Karen Carpenter. So I can rest my soul. Later.
When I was little, I was obsessed with Wonder Woman. I lived for her live-action show. If I ever met Lynda Carter, I would probably faint. When every one else got Spiderman or Superman underoos, I asked for Wonder Woman ones. I got Batman ones. Boo.
My cousins and I often played Superfriends. This consisted of us wrapping towels around our necks and walking around the block. If I didn't get to be Wonder Woman, I pouted and threw tantrums. So, my cousins decided to just let me be Wonder Woman to avoid the drama.
My obsession was bad. I wanted a Wonder Woman doll. I got Batman. Boo.
It got so bad that whenever I was stressed out, I would stand off to the side and twirl around praying that I would become Wonder Woman. I would walk off and just spin, waiting for the burst of light to change me into my tight short, bustier, and tiara. Then, I could solve all my worries by tossing people aside and strut around like I was almighty. Plus I would be gorgeous and everyone would be in awe of me. Did I mention the outfit?
So, now, when I am stressed, I run off to the gym, put on my tight shorts and sleeveless tee. I toss around heavy weight and strut around like I own the place. I have people staring at me... not sure if it's in awe... but they stare. I guess I got what I wanted. Except for the tiara. Later.
There are days that I sit and wonder why I worry about things. Things like my job. Things like my finances. Things like me. This weekend, I didn't sit and wonder. I roamed around and wondered. This kind of wondering often happens when I happen to have a free weekend without my husband and friends around to distract me.
I wonder why I worry about work. Work has not been very pleasant lately. Not because of the economy. But because I feel that I am no longer working for who I thought I was. It's sad when you realize that things are not the same. I probably knew a long time ago but didn't accept it. I'm not quitting anytime soon. Neither am I at risk of losing my job. But that's why I worry. I worry that I will be the last one upholding what I truly believe in. It's not a pleasant feeling. I have some thinking to do.
I wonder why I worry about my finances. Not that the husband's or my job is at risk of being lost. Like everyone else, that risk is there. But it's not like we have not prepared. But I still worry. I think I was just raised to worry about my money. I've always somehow landed on my feet. But I worry that I am not putting enough away. I worry that I am putting away too much. I worry that it won't be there tomorrow. It's difficult for me to think about money. Three different people have commented that nothing "paralyzes" me. Except money issues. I need to figure out why.
Lately, I have been worrying about myself. I am feeling that feeling again. I have changed my career three times. Each time has been challenging. Each time, I have done fine. Each time has been a fun but crazy ride. I am getting that feeling again. I wonder if it's because of what's happening at work? I wonder if I am just destined to be this way. I'm not scared to try something new. Or start from scratch all over again. I am 39 and I don't know if I still have it in me. I don't know if anyone will think that I still have it in me.
This weekend, I had brunch with someone I knew from home room in high school. It was nice to see her. I may be seeing her again. She commented that she was surprised at how much I had "calmed" down. I smiled. Inside, I stirred. I then spent the next 36 hours by myself. Wondering about things. About why I can't just be. About why I can't just accept what I have and stay calm. I wonder why. Later.
