House of Pain

It’s been two years since I returned from my “working” holiday visa in Toronto. It’s only recently that I realised how silly the place I lived for the majority of the year was. So, come with me on a trip down memory lane, accompanied by stupid pictures I took during my time there. Look, a green yet brown banana. Far outttttttt.

I spent the first two months in Toronto in hostels, but after getting a job and deciding I didn’t really want to carry on getting changed under my sheets or getting woken up by somebody rocking back and forth with a towel over their head in the middle of the room at 3am (THIS HAPPENED), I moved into a room in a house. I answered a Craigslist ad detailing a friendly house for a half decent price and went to have a look at it. The friendly Colombian landlord showed me round and despite not being too impressed by either the house itself or the fact it could take as long as an hour to get downtown, I took it anyway as I couldn’t afford to be picky/couldn’t be bothered looking anywhere else.  Mainly the second one.

A fairly big, very woody, typical North American home, 1959 Dufferin Street was near Toronto’s slight shabby Portugese area, with not a Nando’s in sight to redeem it. Two people lived in the basement and had their own kitchen, as well as a washer and dryer that everyone in the house had to use, which was in a room with about 20 years worth of junk in it. The ground floor had a large living/dining/kitchen area with a screen and a projector and one bedroom by the front door. The kitchen had rat poison dishes everywhere, filled with varying amounts of pink granules depending on when the mice were peckish. Upstairs, there was three or four bedrooms and a bathroom, with mine looking out into the “backyard” with it’s scary-eyed raccoons. When I first arrived I put my bag in this room, but was told by the landlord that he told some Russian guy that he’d probably think it was his room. I’ve reimagined the moment I met this guy as if I had the mentality of a commie-fearing American from the fifties to make it more interesting.

He braced himself for a brawl. World War 3. His parents had grown up in theCold War era and had presumably had it hammered into them that all Russians are beasts. Scum. A constant threat to everything you and your Daddy fought for, freedom. And now, one of that generation’s spawn was coming for his space, his freedom. Invading his room and turning it yet another satellite state for Mother Russia. Bringing down the iron curtain on his windows. He wondered what he should use to defend himself. A chair? A table? Too obvious. Perhaps poetic justice. A bottle of vodka or.. a Kalashnikov? No, he didn’t drink and no access to a gun, at best he’d seen a cheap air rifle in Walmart. Maybe just the fist of Uncle Sam, the same one Rocky landed on Ivan Drago‘s face to knock that Commie fuck back to Moscow?! Before he could decide, Andrei popped his head round the door, apologised and moved his bag into the room down the corridor. “He wasn’t a proper Commie anyway,” he decided, “he was wearing glasses”. “Wait”, you’re thinking “Trotsky wore glasses”, but he didn’t know that, so boo to you mate, I’m the narrator.

I spent a lot of time in my room, despite the fact that it was always too hot or too cold. I had a crappy TV which I watched TRULY crappy Canadian TV on occasionally,  I also remember blearily watching England limp out of the World Cup to Germany and then going back to sleep depressed (time difference eh). I could just about cope with the freezing Canadian winter, but the heatwave that struck Toronto whilst I was there made staying in the room almost unbearable. I couldn’t open the window and I only had a crappy fan to cool me down; then there was a power cut where I genuinely nearly died. Before it got really hot I also got my own pet mouse. A fast moving dirty little bastard, I could never get anywhere near it and it could get under the doors and to freedom due to being so small. One of it’s mates must have died as well because the room stunk of rotting eggs for a longer than needed period. The room also looked out onto our Rasta neighbours, who seemed to have parties where they smoked weed, played reggae really loud through massive speakers with mental bass in their cars and let their kids run around at like 3pm on a Wednesday.

My housemates were members of a never ending international roundabout. I’m not sure how many different people lived there during the nine months I was there, but it must have been over 20 moving in and out of about eight rooms. There was a theme of French speaking people, including a small guy who was constantly pissed off and after a night out got genuinely angry at me because I temporarily worked at a cinema.  At one point, an American brother and sister moved in.. to the same room. She was apparently a 17-year old model and he was “just looking after her as she tried to make it big”. Eeesh. There was also quite a few Asian students, an Irish bloke who I hilariously watched the France-Ireland World Cup qualifying playoff with (as well as the angry French guy) when Henry handled the ball and a extremely Artic-looking Canadian guy, as well as others who I barely saw. The only other Canadian guy who lived there deserves a few paragraphs to himself, so avert your eyes down a line please.

Built like a brick shit house, this bloke was a half-Italian, heavy-metal loving labourer, who had resorted to living in a shabby hotel of a house due to losing his job. He told me he was working in the wilds when he got drunk at a bar and was pulled over by the police as he drove out, accusing the locals of dobbing him in because he had long hair at the time (he now wore a tea cosy on his bald head) and because had darker skin then them moose-n-lumber rednecks. He had made a shitload from his job and had a wife and a kid, but told me that he had tragically lost it all by not being able to drive for work after losing his license, then losing his wife (never explained why) and losing custody of his kid. So here he was, a volatile giant of a man, pissed off at the hand that life had suddenly thrust upon him.

Because I worked late hours at the cinema, I tended to come in late most nights, but this guy was always up on the house PC, a consistent fixture of the living room. Generally a bit smashed on jugs of red wine and half eating his (proper nice) Italian food which he always offered me, he was always up for telling me how the system had failed him and us all. I appreciated his food when I was essentially living on discounted Burger King from work and Pop Tarts, but I could never get a word in when speaking to him as he had all the conspiracies and Illuminati shit ready to trot out at every opportunity. I believe we live in an unfair world and that things are definitely wrong, but this guy apparently knew it all, despite the fact that, to my knowledge, he never left the house. I heard from my Irish housemate that this bloke had nearly knocked out a bloke in the garden after he mistakenly touched his lawnmower at a party or something, but it took until the end of my tenure at Dufferin Street that I witnessed his nutter status for real. Again, I’ve taken the liberty of describing this event in a dramatic style because I’m great. IT’S ALL TRUE!

It was time for the Frenchman to leave, to return to his homeland after unsuccessfully converting the rest of Canada into speaking French (probably). He gathered up his Gallic friends for a party in his temporary castle, but would kindly share the moment with the rest of his subjects and other dignitaries. Merry times were had, the booze was flowing, the music was loud. But one Italian party Grinch locked himself inside his keep, determined not to partake in the festivities. As the time ticked away, drink flowed longer, the music gained louder and the party Grinch gained angrier. But there was no appearance from him, just the sound of his music growing and the odd frustrated bang on the wall. 

It all reached a head as the drunken Frenchman put “I’m on a Boat” on at full blast. The party Grinch stormed out of his room and made straight for the Frenchman,  grabbing him by the throat and pinning him against the wall, despite being at least a foot taller than him. He was no fan of parody, or boats motherfucker! The atmosphere dropped like a stone, the women burst into tears, the Frenchmen panicked and shouted. Eventually the Italian softened his grip, but his anger did not wain. He ranted and raved at the departing Frenchman, telling him he was not the ruler of the house and he was taking liberties that weren’t his to take. He smashed up a table, slammed a door. It took him an age to calm down, but the damage was already done. The rest of the house lived in fear of his rage until the end of days.

A couple of months after this ridiculous incident and when everything had pretty much blown over, this bloke put his big Italian foot in it again. After seemingly befriending a Japanese student who lived downstairs, one night things again turned a bit ugly. He baked a cake which she presumed was for her and her mate, but it turned out he was expecting them to share it. When he found out she’d taken his precious cake all for herself, he hit the roof and apparently threatened her. This led to the landlord stepping in, he locked the door to the basement where she lived so this nasty man couldn’t threaten over a cake anymore and served him with an eviction notice. Annoyingly, that meant that everyone had to use the outside entrance to put some shitting socks in the wash. Apparently he’d only got to live in the house in the first place because he was fixing it up for the landlord, but now the landlord had enough of him breaking up this Benetton advert of a house. He fought back with legal proceedings, but I never found out if he got kicked out or if they made peace, I’d left Canada before it reached it’s climax. Ridiculous.

So that was the house. A strange, wonderful time. Maybe you don’t find any of that interesting or out of the ordinary and believe I must live a pretty dull life now? Well, let me tell you that this was a time that also included other ridiculous events like witnessing the G20 riots, working with a guy who got sacked for being a paedophile, an old man telling me I was a fascist for wearing camo shorts in the streets, a bloke coming onto me on the subway by grabbing his balls and pouting, running through university dorms in my boxers and ketchup smeared all over my torso, throwing up beans and toast also on the subway on new years eve, walking out of a U2 gig before they even started and witnessing a tramp defecating on a church. But I can’t be arsed going into them, read my blog more or ask me about it in real life. I might tell you, but I might be too tired, sorry. Bye.

Well. That's it. I'm currently sat in bed watching "Goals of the Season 1999/2000" at 4.04am. It's cold. I just had a bag of Quavers. I think I'm generally considered to be at home. A chapter of my life is over. Time for a sum up.

Last time I communicated with you through the medium of blog, I was preparing to go on my trip to D.C., which you can read about below if you haven't worked that out yet, Dorkus McCorkus. But before that, there was a few things to sort out. I left work a few days before my trip, which I can honestly say, in the end, was pretty sad. I've made some great friends through work and although it wasn't the best job I've ever had, it wasn't the worst, and everyone made me feel very at home in Toronto. There genuinely wasn't that many days where I really didn't want to go in due to the people I'd see there. And thanks to work, I've watched a helluva lot of movies over the 11 months and it's finally got me hooked on em' forever. Let's just say it's gonna be hard to fork out any paper from my wallet to watch a movie on a big screen from now on.

When I got back from my trip, I had only a few days to pack my life in Toronto up. Some into a bag, some into a bin. I closed my bank account, I picked up my life-saving tax return and I bought some stuff for the folks back home. On the last day, I handed my keys back to my landlord and being the absolute gent that he was, he didn't even want me to clean the room. My easy-going landlord was one of the best parts of living at 1959 Dufferin Street and I was lucky to have a bloke who once let me pay my rent two weeks late so I could buy a Metropass. A lot of people came and went from the house so it was generally just a place to sleep and doss after work or on days off if I wasn't hanging out at someone else's. It was a bit of a shithole to be honest (bastard mouse) and I probably could have moved, but then, you could say the same thing about the job.. and the city. I was clearly at home and didn't really need to move.

The last night was awesome, but totally sad. As I said, I've made some really good friends in Toronto, especially through work, and especially (but not limited to) those beautiful people in the picture above. It's always hard to say goodbye, but at the end of the day, that's the nature of travelling. I've seen a lot of lovely, interesting people come and go as well, but I can honestly say there's plenty I care about both in Toronto now and others who went back to their respective countries.. and to those, I will see again. Some sooner, some later. Thanks for making my year what is was. You people know who you are and I LOVE YOU ALL!!!!!111

Ahem, ok, wipe away the tears. So I got on the plane last Friday now, with a hangover and generally, it was just an annoying flight. There was a bloody baby crying and there wasn't anything good to watch and I was sat in the middle and the food was shite and it took too long. Then I had to lug all my luggage into London and hang around for ages and then get a cramped coach back to Leeds. It was cold (total culture shock, I've been wearing shorts since May), it was wet and it was depressing.

Unlike Toronto at this time of year. Ah, Toronto. Looking back at the city I can fully appreciate how much I enjoyed living there. When people ask me what I like about it, I kind of struggle to answer them. I don't really know. Perhaps it's because there's so much to do and so many places to go and that walking five minutes in one direction can take you into another world or another culture. Perhaps it's because you can walk around pretty much any area at any time and feel completely safe, unlike any other city I've visited. The people may be accused of being unfriendly, but they rarely brawl in the streets and everyone, no matter what race or wherever you're from (and there's a helluva lot) get on, like a big fucking Benetton advert. The transport system may be accused of being outdated, but you can go pretty much anywhere 24 hours a day. I just think Toronto works as a city, and in the right context, I would love to call it my permanent home. The events of the G20 just show how shocking an upheaval it was to people who are genuinely proud of their city. If you're ever in the area, seriously, visit. You'll bladdy lav it.

Obviously there was things I missed when I was away and now I'm home I've been lauding them up as much as possible, especially seeing my friends and family again, the cheapness of certain things (Toronto isn't cheap), the countryside, certain foods and, of course, my Xbox. However, now I've been savagely bitten by the big city, I'm going to find it hard to stay in Menston for too long. I'll now jump at any opportunity to both go out further into the world and see things and live, at least in the next few years, in a vibrant place like Toronto.

My plans at the moment are all still a bit up in the air, mainly because it really hasn't quite sunk in that I'm back at home for the forseeable futures. It's kind of weird to be honest. It's like I never left, but just odd that I've been removed from Toronto and placed in a different world, at home with my parents. So, once I've found a job (journalism or not), I'll look to move out and onwards and upwards, yeah? But there's every chance I could be back in Canada sooner than I thought, especially since I'm allowed to do another working visa before I'm 30.

If I have any regrets for my year away, it would be that it's been kind of non-Canadian. Yeah, I lived and worked in Canada and made Canadian friends, but Toronto isn't particularly "Canadian". I originally planned to do more travelling in Canada and go to Vancouver but that didn't happen due to money, but if I come back, will be the most likely place, a long with some proper Canadian lauding; dressing up as a mountie, riding a moose and shouting "Eh buddy, it's aboot time ya moved" (yeah, they do say words like that, no lie) whilst eating a box of Timbits.

So that's it. Thanks for reading the blog this year and I will carry on with.. well.. at least movie reviews. All that remains to be said is... thanks Toronto. You're lovely.

Love,

Paul

Sheeeeeetwave

"These bananas are causing a situation"

Good day sir or madam! So here we are again, in what shall be almost certainly the penultimate blog based around my year in the big shiny city of Toronto. Yeah, you 'eard. I am now all booked on a flight back to the motherland on July 30th. I was originally planning to go back a bit later, but due to being homeless in August if I stayed and not really being able to travel for a prolonged period during that time, I decided to cash my chips in and slip out of Canada before the final month of my working visa kicks in. But enough of that, what's happened in the last 37 days ya berk? Well a lot. So shut up.

Remember last time I told you it had been hot in May? Well, that was nothing at all compared to the crippling heatwave that engulfed the city (and a lot of North America) over the last few weeks. The tropical humidity made even sitting in my room without a fan glued to my face unbearable. I honestly believe during the worst of it, where temperatures were up to something like "feels like" 43 degrees celsius, a sauna or the surface of the sun would have been nicer places to hang out. Coming from a country which delivers perpetual drizzle is a bit of a change from the weather extremes that this city seems to throw up. And then on the hottest day of the year, the power decided to go out for an hour, because apparently too many people were using their air conditioning (I ONLY HAVE A SHITTING FAN!), which was marvellous, if you enjoy doggy-paddle-ing in your own sweat. Currently, the weather has cooled down a bit, but it's still perma-shorts weather, which is fine. But I still prefer Spring or Autumn (which last about a day and a half each here). Sorry.

Enough of the weather, there's been some pretty big events that have effected Toronto over the last month or so, firstly of course, being that football thing. The World Cup, despite being a bit of an average one and the matches being on way too early due to the time difference, was awesome. Even CBC's coverage wasn't too bad, although having one commentator and no summariser is kind of weird, but at least they know what they're talking about, i.e, they're not Canadian. On the flip side of course, England's performance was a total disgrace, but provided excellent opportunities to get smashed with fellow countrymen and women. And secondly, it's fucking annoying if you live in an area with a lot of fans of one country when they win and you don't care. When Portugal beat North Korea 7-0, I was trying to lie in. Nah. Barrage of car horns all morning and early afternoon. I was however, pleasantly surprised at how much this city embraced the tournament, probably thanks to the number of nationalities and the wide array of backgrounds people have. With SAWKER FEVVE RRRRRRR! hitting the city, I also managed to take part in a few kickabouts in the lovely (and massive) High Park with some buddies from work, which I had missed a lot. And no one ever mentioned hockey. Although the friggin' mosquitoes tore me to shreds more than any defender. GOAAAAAAAAAAAL.

G Whizz 20 fuck

The second big event that hit Toronto was totally horrendous, so I've dedicated a sub-heading to it, woah! The G20 conference was hosted here, downtown, over the weekend of the 25-27th of June and the world leaders got together and shit-chatted about important shit, y'know, etc, whatever. The city spent a lot on security and barricaded half of downtown off expecting shit to go down... and it did. Here's my secret diary, so secret, I'm going to put it in italics to make it look well cool.

I worked the Friday and nothing went down at all, but I found it kind of odd that they'd boarded up the book store next to work. Thinking nothing of it, I got up the next day for work and got onto the subway like any other day. That's when things got a bit weird. The announcer man told everyone that the subway services were all cancelled downtown; streetcar, bus and subway and said "Downtown is not the place you want to be right now". Ok I thought, he's probably being melodramatic. I live outside downtown so I got off where it ended and called work and told them I'd be late and started walking down there, because I'm a warrior after all.

There was a really, really uneasy silence walking down through the university and I could hear a lot of crowd shouts and some megaphones from a long way off, which kind of creeped me out. Everything was very quiet until I pretty much reached a block or two away from the theatre, where I met a woman who told me I should probably go home. Ok, I thought, but I used to walk home from work through Leeds city centre, completely sober, on a Friday and Saturday night love, no offence. She asked if I'd walk her to a nearby intersection where her husband was, who worked for a security service and she spoke to him on the phone as we walked. I was still slightly puzzled as to what was going on, as I just figured it'd be a few protesters with backpacks and pictures of Steven Harper with swastikas spray painted onto his head. But then we got to the block before work (Queen Street for those in the know) and well... I realised what the fuss was about.

A wave of hostile noise, frankly terrifying armies of black-clad riot police in gas masks and this lady telling me "they were going to use the gas" hit me as I watched groups of protesters walk along Queen Street. The ones at the front were clearly the bad bastards who I later saw smashing up windows and setting fire to police cars on the news (the so-called "black bloc"), whilst other pretty ordinary protesters followed behind. Despite all this insanity, I figured I should probably at least attempt to get to work if we were still open, which appeared to be blocked at every street by a line of black stormtroopers. I walked through the remains of the protesters as it cleared and saw the trail of destruction that the big boys had left, which included a lot of glass on the ground, smashed up banks, smashed up CTV and smashed up Starbucks (predictable).

I quickly realised there was no way I could get any further, so I stood on the corner looking confused like a lot of other onlookers; which was also bizarre, as there was no traffic on any of the roads and people were everywhere. I got a text from my mate Cam who informed me there was further shit going down and then a call from work who told me that they were closing. Therefore, I decided I should probably get out of there, so I walked up to Cam's to hang out and witness the madness on TV.

All in all, witnessing what I did literally round the corner from work and on the TV was totally horrible and the whole thing left a massive shit stain on this really quite nice city. It's obviously never going to be nice to be stuck in a scene from Half Life 2 with heavy handed, machine gun wielding riot police walking around looking menacing. But there's two sides to blame that weekend in my opinion. The police, firstly, clearly cocked up. Their main aim was to protect the big politician men and the security fence that they put up, but in doing so, it let the complete fucktard so-called "anarchists" run amok across the city, destroying property, wasting everyone's money, achieving nothing and ultimately taking the focus off any legitimate protests taking place.

The police also decided to screw up in the aftermath by arresting a lot of people for little or no reason (including a couple of people I knew who were just standing around), coming out after the riots and telling the public that they made up a law that would give powers to arrest anyone who went near the fence and generally being nasty with the batons and the clubbing and mm-hey! The old man in me does see the argument of "why are you standing around where there's trouble, of course you're gonna get boxed and shit on by by the police", but at the end of the day, this isn't private property, it's downtown Toronto. It's also equally fucked when you get poked in the ribs by a cop with a gun and violently asked what you're doing when you're trying to leave work, which was exactly what happened to one of my friends.

Ultimately, it was a total mistake to hold the G20 in downtown Toronto. It drew troublemakers from far and wide and showed Toronto in a horrendous light which it really doesn't deserve and I hope doesn't stick (because let's face it, this sort of thing always happens, it was just really sad seeing it in a place like this). I heard reports before saying that the G20 would bring great economic advantages to the city, which looking back is totally laughable. Nothing was gained apart from a hefty security bill and a massive clean up operation. A total waste of time then. But one that'll stick in my mind for a while. And you should look here to get a clearer picture of what actually happened.

Tell me nice things

Well, another slightly crazy thing that happened was an earthquake, which happened on the day England lost to Germany. I went to sleep after that abysmal match and was woken up thinking there was a load of mice under my bed (seriously, I'll cover that in a second), when actually we'd been hit by a whatever magnitude shit-quake (I've watched a lot of Trailer Park Boys recently if anyone gets that reference, I'll give you a kiss). If I'm honest, it didn't affect me that much, after all, I witnessed an earthquake of that scale in fucking Preston when I was at uni.

So yeah, the mice. After those weird smells and flies I talked about last time, two and two got together and squeezed out four in the form of real actual live rodents in my house, including one evil bastard that I saw in my bedroom a few times and another one downstairs, which I found dead on the floor when I came home from work one night. Not nice. I bought some traps to ease the paranoia of a mouse crawling inside me during the night, but if I'm honest, I've witnessed nasty animals in houses before. I had slugs in my kitchen during my second year of uni, and twice at home, birds have fallen down our chimney, been trapped in our fireplace, died, and then the subsequent maggots have turned to hundreds of flies which fly out and smash their heads into the window in my mum's lovely clean living room for a couple of days. But anyway, lately it's all been quiet on that front, despite the fact that the poison in the kitchen keeps disappearing. Shit.

Work lately has been very quiet with no big films at all, but that's all changing as we speak as Inception (which I loved) hits the theatre just in time for me to leave in a week, which I swear, is going to be sad, especially when you finally get to know people and then have to fuck off. Outside of work, also sad, is the fact that a lot of really, really, nice English people I've met over here have been leaving in the last few weeks. But of course, the UK draws close for me too, in just under two weeks. The reality totally hasn't kicked in yet. Neither has the job hunt, eek.

One of the reasons is probably because I finally pulled my finger out and booked a trip to Washington, where I'll be having a look around next week, as well as a quick stop off in the land of cheese spread, Philadelphia. For a insanely cheap price on the Megabus, it seemed a shame not to, so look forward to pictures of me sitting on Abraham Lincoln's lap like he was Santa with better facial hair. Due to the four day trip being so cheap, I'm also going to have a nice wad of cash when I come home, which will tide me over.. at least.. with Xbox games I've missed.. until I get a job. I'm also trying to pack in a few touristy things in Toronto I've missed before I go; me and Cam (RIP, he's gone) had a look round the AGO, the art gallery, a few weeks back which was alright and I'm hoping to finally hit the big theme park here in the next few days.

Other than that, I'll be crying inside a lot (and maybe a bit outside), cancelling things and saying goodbye in the next couple of weeks, and my next blog will be from bloody West Yorkshire. Christ. So yeah, watch out for my FINAL Canada blog next time, which will include a report on my second US trip. I'll be celebrating by murdering a random member of your family like that Raoul Moat guy, because he seems to be the in-thing at home. Get ready to laugh, then cry. Also, I'll probably do a movie one this week, as I've watched 18 films since the last one. I'm hard. Bye for now!

Flaming hell in Toronto

"You better radio someone because my friend is in there pissing all over your theatre"

Wow, you tuned in to read one blog and another one popped up! Good lord! It's like a two for one deal, although the "one" is free, so the deal doesn't really matter. Err.. so, the last one was well overdue, this one is right about on time. What's been going on? Well if I'm honest, since I've got back from my jaunt away, things have been sort of insane. Even the littlest things I've seen and heard have been totally nuts. I knew Toronto was slightly nutbar from the moment I saw a hobo defecating onto a church, but recently the insanity ratio has stepped up a notch.

The first thing that happened was that my netbook was slaughtered by some nasty spyware, leaving me with no internet in my house apart from the old PC downstairs. I tried for a couple of weeks to fix it in various ways with various people's help, but to no avail and have only recently splashed out on a new one. At the same time, there was some drama in my house with one of my housemates and the landlord (not involving me) which led to a very tense atmosphere and didn't really make me want to use said PC downstairs. At the same time Toronto decided to be 30 degrees everyday in May. At the same time as that there's a horrible smell in my room, probably due to a rat dying in my room. At the same time the TTC decides to do a load of work on the subway making it annoying at best to get downtown. And at the same time as that, there were things in my social life that were completely nuts.

There's also been some crazy incidents that have left me completely confused, for example, an old man telling me off on the street for wearing camo shorts, saying I was a fascist. I was wearing a Dead Kennedys shirt at the time. Jesus. A few days later I witnessed the Toronto police pulling up beside a hobo fight and slamming them against cars in a very unfriendly way. Almost makes me want to burn my "fascist" camo shorts. Around that time I also witnessed a man SMOKING on the subway, OH MY GOD!!!!111

So all in all, May was insanity and it looks like June has quietened down a bit - new netbook, rain, less drama, smell almost gone (ok, I covered the vent with a plastic bag). Work is one of the things that has predictably stayed pretty non-nuts, but shifts have been pretty sparse due to my cinema not getting any big films. Luckily, money wise I've been ok, and only just recently paid off my last rent, as July has already been paid for thanks to my first and last. But I'm currently trying to save for a last-gasp trek somewhere at the end of July/early August (probably either Algonquin Park or potentially another jaunt to the States), so hopefully shifts will pick up in the next few weeks and I don't blow my now pretty much disposable income (I'll just keep denying I have an overdraft to pay off at home).

The fact that I'm going home soon hasn't really sunk in yet, but becomes apparent with things like paying last rent and when people around you start going home, and I'm looking forward to it as much as I am feeling sad about it. And what am I going back to? A cross-breed government who are going to "push unemployment to three million". Aww man. Well, at least I'm going back to a Leeds United in the Championship.

But I've still go plenty of stuff to do and look at and hell, have been doing. A few weeks ago we went to Scarborough Bluffs, which is not really like the real Scarborough at home, well err.. there's less.. chips - they're basically big cliffs, but it's very nice and another example of how you can travel a short distance within Toronto and it's another world. I also hope to go the AGO (art place) and Canada's Wonderland (theme park) and maybe even the Ontario Science Centre in the next few weeks, to get my brownie points as a good tourist.

The World bloody Cup starts on Friday as well, which I'm totally excited about, and surprisingly, I think a lot of Toronto is too, due to the variety of neighbourhoods in the city. CBC are showing every single game, which deserves a big pat on the back and everyone in my area seems to be wearing a Portugal shirt, probably because the area is Portugese. England aren't gonna win it, but I'm hella-looking forward to throwing a chair through a bar's window when we don't win (Ironically, one of the things I like about bars here is that they have frame-less fronts when it's warm so you can be outside.. inside).

So yeah, I'm looking forward to doing some new things, having some nice times and hanging out to the max, seeing some nice people off, watching a fuck load of football and hopefully planning a trip for right before I go home. So tune in next time for rapes and japes and cape...rs. Bye!

A stroll around the lake

"Ladies, Ladies, Ladies..."

Firstly may I apologise wholeheartedly for my total lack of blog communications recently, which I partly blame on the fact I spazzed up my netbook, but also partly blame on my (at times) horrific laziness. So, now I have to delve into my memory banks to recall the precise details of what happened on a trip I took over a month ago. Or I would, but luckily I'm just going to slightly plagarise Cam's blog (who came with me and Lev) and I won't even risk getting kicked out of uni (incidentally, I've have a few dreams recently where I have a mound of assignments and revision to do and then I wake up and realise I'll probably never have to do an assignment again). So let's get it on.

Pre-trip, Toronto, Ontario

Early May and I'm free from work for about two weeks, money in the bank, Greyhound pass bought, hostels booked, half-packed and awaiting the arrival of my favourite little man from Carlisle. Luckily, that volcano thing decided not to be a dick and Lev made it over to Toronto as planned, despite nearly missing all of his flights because he's rubbish. That night I took him on a whistle-stop tour of Toronto, which included his first 7-11 slushie, a quick tour around downtown, the annex and the harbour front and demolishing several chicken wings. The next day we popped into the Royal Ontario museum, which was the first time I'd been and wasn't bad, although nothing to write home about, which is ironic, because that's essentially what I'm doing right now. Think dinosaur bones, stuffed animals and a suit of armour and you've essentially got it. The day after that, with Lev just about settling into Toronto, we pulled the carpet under his feet and began our travels, after getting our Benjamins (look it up homeboys) and experiencing another Canadian first for me, smoked meat sandwiches, which are sandwiches with smoked meat in them. Suprise!

We'd all bought a 7-day pass that entitled unlimited travel around the USA on Greyhound coaches for 240ish dollars. None of our tickets were actually booked, you had to present them at each bus station in exchange for a ticket, which I always found slightly nerve-wracking, in case a entire hockey time had booked the coach for a sodding day trip to an aquarium or likewise. But we crossed the first hurdle by boarding our bus to New York on time at around 11pm. The trip itself took close to 12 hours, which involved a slightly scary interrogation by US border guards (who probably "go home and have a wank over how awesome they think they are" - Lev) and the bizarre sight of seeing an Amish family sitting in a service station, right next to a Dunkin' Donuts, somewhere in New York state at 4am in the morning. But I'd finally entered Obama's USA and y'know what? It were reet good like.

New York City, New York

We arrived in New York at around 9-9.30 and were straightaway thrust into a busy, claustrophobic subway station with little idea of where we were or where the hostel was, and just a totally confusing subway map to look at. We walked up the road and headed straight to the first coffee place we found which was run by loud Italian people and shoved food and caffeine down our necks to make up for the piss-poor attempts at sleep we got on the coach. Then we were presented with a sight I've seen many times in movies, on TV and err.. GTA IV - Times Square. After having a mild panic attack at the amount of advertising signs and people and the fact I was actually in scary New York, we took some pictures and then headed up to the hostel on the subway, which wasn't nearly as scary as it sounds.

After dumping our stuff off at the hostel, which was pretty good (and apparently the biggest in one of its kind in North America, which makes sense) we headed straight for the Bronx Zoo, which was free on a Wednesday. The subway journey there was cool as we got to ride on and see the famous overground subway tracks, which again just reminded me of GTA (sorry). The Bronx apparently isn't full of hard bastards like it used to be, which is reflective of a lot of New York nowadays thanks to that Rudolph mayor bloke - it was the same case for Harlem where our hostel was, which seemed safe enough. With the sun already starting to burn the shit out of my face, we wandered around the zoo for most of the day, the highlights probably being a Polar Bear battering a plastic box, a brown bear with a human haircut and some ridiculous sealions.

As the evening approached, we headed back downtown and bought one of those city tour packages which included tours and admission for various attractions for a pretty decent price. Straight away we headed up the big boy himself, the Empire State building, disappointingly just missing the sunset. However, we got the jaw-dropping views of New York at night instead, which blew everyone's faces off, like the wind. Wind makes you hungry, so after fannying about for a bit, we decided to go to Planet Hollywood (Owned by John McClane, Rambo and formerly the Terminator) for a burger, which was packed with movie memorabilia and decent food, which sadly wasn't cooked by Sylvester Stallone. Also, I wasn't sure if the waiter was trying to play a character or not. If he wasn't, he was a prick. After that, we were all totally knackered and retired back to the hostel to reboot for another stupidly busy day.

Up early, stuffed with muffins and ready to go, we found our way to the nearest open-top bus tour stop after a quick look around a big-ass cathedral. We rode all the way from Harlem to the ferry terminal at Battery Park on two separate buses, with two pretty good tour guides. The second guy in particular cracked me up, as he was a crazy old nutter who made jokes straight out of 1975. We then boarded the ferry for the Statue of Liberty, which was kind of smaller than I thought it would be. The views from the ferry were awesome and wandering around on the island was totally surreal. After taking that in, we headed back to the mainland, had a look around the financial district and Wall Street, where oddly there was traders selling knock-off DVDs (they must be hard up; also there was a hell of a lot of African guys selling fake Rolexs from black bin liners in New York, not sure what that shit was).

Waiting for a two-hour night tour of Brooklyn, we had some textbook dinner at sunset at a place called Uno and then hopped back onto another bus which took us back up to Times Square (with a truly awful guide this time), then a fourth of the day which would take us out to David Beckham's son (Brooklyn ya idiot). The tour held ridiculous views of New York, especially from the other side of the river and going across the Brooklyn Bridge was immense - Brooklyn itself wasn't particularly interesting, but we got to eat at a famous ice cream place anyway which you can't really argue with. Sunburnt to hell, we all headed back to the hostel that night, completely destroyed by another stupid-busy day.

The next morning we were a bit late getting down to the bus station for Boston, because (plagirism alert):"It seemed to have slipped our mind, just how big this ruddy apple was."

Boston, Massachusetts

We got to Boston late afternoon after a pretty painless bus ride and after fumbling finding the hostel, wandered around this really quite nice city in the sunshine. We took Boston's subway to and from the hostel and headed back into the centre. The old town and Boston Common in particular were sweet and later on we found the Cheers bar - Lev in particular seemed to have a complete heart attack over this place, I mean, I liked the show, but I think Lev would have stayed in the gift shop for the rest of his life if he could - the douche. We did some more walking around along "The Freedom Trail" which follows a load of the historic sites in the city, and then later in the evening we found a pretty quirky restaurant where we ate clam chowder, stared in amazement at Irish people singing songs around a piano, ignored the hockey, pretended we were from "Baaahston" and generally lived like kings for the evening (except we couldn't get served for booze because Cam was under 21, stupid America).

After another decent sleep in the hostel, me and Lev met a very wet Cam at breakfast, who had gone off exploring at 6am in the sodding rain. We joined in on it and took a look around Harvard University and a bit more of the town, but the rain pissed on our bonfire and sadly later that afternoon we were leaving the place for Montreal. It was a shame we didn't spend more time in Boston and that half of the time it was shitty weather - hopefully I'll get to come back someday. At the bus station, Lev dropped a clanger and lost his bus pass which was a kick in the teeth, and Cam later found out he'd left his jacket, but once we were on the bus we began some intense games of cards and I found out Leeds had been promoted, everyone's spirits quickly lifted (well mine did). For the record, the only thing I lost during the trip was a nine of clubs. So nerr.

The long trip from Boston to Montreal was the best of the bus journeys due to the scenery through Vermont, with it's beautiful rolling hills and a spectacular thunderstorm. This is America at it's finest and it's clear to see why those blokes who landed in New England back in ye olde days wanted to stay here. Once we reached Canada, the difference in border control was hilarious - I've literally had more security checks getting on a rollercoaster. God bless those trusty Canadians.

Montreal, Quebec

We entered French Canada in the evening and were faced with another subway system to get to our third hostel of the trip. The biggest shock at this point was the cold - we'd gone from blazing hot Toronto and New York to rainy Boston and now to a cold Montreal, with the temperatures barely above freezing. That night we checked in late and went to bed, waking up to SNOW in the morning. The first thing we did was to try and get a good view of the city - handily, there's a big fuck off hill called Mont Royal, so we climbed up that, mostly complaining about the cold and looked out at the view. Or at least we would have done, if we could have seen anything past the white fuzz. Nevertheless it was cool being up there. And cold.

We then climbed down from that silliness and had a wander around a dull, grey and pretty much deserted Montreal on a Sunday, a world away from it's "party town" tag. I think we came to Montreal at the wrong time, although through no fault of our own, but we managed to see some nice buildings, get lost in the underground city which was mainly just full of hobos and go to a totally confusing art exhibition - everything else seemed to be closed. Later that day we used my privileges as a Cineplex employee to see Iron Man 2 on the IMAX at "Banque Scotia", a name I find hilarious considering all the films are in English. Montreal is pretty French, but as soon as someone realises you're English (whether you're speaking French or not), they speak it to you, so perhaps I'm taking the wrong attitude, but I don't see the point in speaking French at all. Pardon monsieur. We also visited a few book stores to feed Lev's comic book addiction, which was a long-running theme of the trip. We dropped into a 24-hour arcade on the way back to the hostel, where we gamed the night away for about 20 minutes and ate authentic Montreal poutine... at a burger chain. We did some major league chilling out relaxing at the hostel that night, which would be our last on the road.

The next morning the snow had fucked off and we were leaving, brilliant.

Ottawa, Ontario

So a quick stop off in the nation's capital on the way home and there was only really one place to head for - Parliament Hill. The buildings were impressive and the amount of Canadian flags verged on the insane, but it seemed a nice enough place and we took more than enough photos of buildings, memorials, sculptures and.. flags. We ate in an very strange, empty restaurant and after a few hours of being in Ottawa, got back on the coach to head home to Toronto, where me and Lev spent at least two hours talking utter shite about an idea to introduce snail racing on coaches.

And that was it. The next day we saw another movie at my cinema (look out soon for another movie review blog post, oh man, how excited you must be right now), we had another Toronto walk and then left Lev at Cam's as his house is nearer the subway and he had an early flight to get the next morning.

All in all, the trip was bloody marvellous. My first trip to the States proved to be a memorable one, but most definitely won't be my last and the fact the trip went so smoothly was truly impressive. The travel times were long but didn't ever hinder us, but if I could have changed anything, it would have been nice to spend some more time everywhere. Sadly the restrains of work and Lev's schedule made this not an option - however, I believe we made the most of our time and I'm really glad I did it. And a-thank you for reading. The pictures are all over my facebook mate. Night.

Not a mistake, by a lake

"Paul is the best name ever! After Jesus."

As the volcanic mist clears and the world takes another step towards to it's inevitable doom, I watch Fight Club, eat a Mars Bar and write another monthly update from the "true north strong and free" (I'm still not sure about this one, I mean, it is *A* north, but Sheffield, Leeds, Bradford, Liverpool, Newcastle, *cough* Manchester *cough* is still the "true" north to me, Ee by gum). I haven't got a great deal to report this month, but I feel oddly guilty and creatively bereft if I don't update this little speck of internet filth every so often. So here's another post of bullshit.

So, April. Work is still taking up the majority of my time unsurprisingly, and everything is well.. y'know.. work. I'm still surrounded by beautiful people who make my first proper full time job (ok, hold the "proper) bearable and also still by the very strange Canadian public who say some very strange things. For example, how are you expect to answer when some bloke built like a brick shit house asks you if you think his girlfriend is cute? Do you say "of course" and risk pain for even looking at his girlfriend or say otherwise and risk him getting offended for not finding his girlfriend attractive? It's a total lose lose situation. It's doubly hard when you can never be sure if someone is dead serious or not and then also totally embarrassing when someone thinks you're a moron because you didn't play along with their joke. In conclusion... THE GUEST IS WHY!?!?? *shudder* Anyway, I recently got put in charge of changing posters, which has given me ambitions of quitting the job and just selling all the posters of films that aren't even out yet that we take down and selling them on Ebay. Not really. Maybe.

It's currently under two weeks until my mate Lev coming over and me, him and Cam go on our little jaunt around Lake Ontario, which I'm extremely excited about, although it still hasn't sunk in that I'm going anywhere after not travelling more than a few miles since October (which feels VERY weird). At home, I was always making full use of my Young Persons Railcard (REPRESENT) to go and see someone somewhere, but when you live in such a big place like Toronto, the variety is at your doorstep. Having said that, I'm massively excited about going to America for the first time (n00b) and catching up with an old friend... tourism. Oh and Lev. I just hope that the ruddy smoking mound thing shuts up so his aeroplane can get here. In regards to funding it, things at the cinema have been pretty quiet recently with a lack of blockbuster movies, but I've just about managed to violently steal enough shifts from co-workers to survive and save.

Toronto is pretty warm and sunny at the moment (if it was daytime), but still confuses me with it's sudden change in weather. However, barbecues have already been had and it's not even May yet, which is a total triumph innit?! Everyone wears baseball caps and sunglasses in this city all year round, and finely they're justified. More outdoorsy stuff is certainly on the horizon, probably including being part of the lowest attendance crowds for the Toronto Blue Jays ever. There's talk of camping afoot which would be cool and I hope to finally show off my prowess on the footy pitch again.

There's been even more leaving parties at work and for the English in the past month, which is always sad but blurry. It's times like that they make me kind of nervous that I have to go home in less than four months now, especially since I don't really have much of a plan when I do go back, other than being locked in my room for at least a week penetrating my Xbox. On the flip side, there is certain things (I really crave a proper takeaway curry and a scotch egg sometimes) and of course people I miss at home, but I don't quite know how long it'll be before I'm bored and home and want to break free again. My sketchy plan at the moment involves going home, learning to drive and then trying to get a vague career job and moving out - if that doesn't work out within a year or something, get another Visa and returning to the other side of this wonderful country or going somewhere else. But I'll leave that up to the month of September to decide. Cheers September.

Anyway, oddly enough, films (and a strange Pokemon relapse) are filling the 360 void at the moment, hot tip of the month is definitely Kick Ass, which features a helluva lot of Toronto. It was a total mindfuck for everyone at the staff screening to see their own theatre on a film that was showing at that theatre, and I certainly thought the world was going to explode, I dunno about anyone else. Someone also told me the other day they're going to show World Cup games at work, which would be kind of weird, but once again made me go a bit silly over the upcoming tournament which will make me so patriotic I think I might accidentally beat up a minority. Y'know, or not. Which leads me to the election which I'm probably gonna miss. Do the right thing UK and don't vote Diddy Cameron please? And since when have the Liberal Democrats been serious contenders?! Blimey. If I sort my proxy vote in time I'll be voting big wussy yellow, hurrah!

That's all for now, next blog will tell all of my travels in May, potential plans for summer and my reaction to both Leeds United's moment of glory/total ridiculous embarrassing failure and more than two lines about the election.

Love you,
Paul

Thanks to andreiphotos.blogspot.com who I stole the Tim Hortons photo off without asking. For the uninformed, Tim Hortons is a popular coffee place in Canada, frequented by the homeless and staffed by the non-English speaking, but hey, the donuts are well cheap. In conclusion, you see lots of those cups everywhere.

Survival of the Fattest

"Savage pile-up out there, holy hell!"

As I sit here, in shorts, with the window open and the temperature outside apparently 17 degrees celsius, I am led to believe that I survived the Canadian winter. Ok, so maybe it was a mild one (and you got more snow at home, nerr), but I never had to buy that huge big winter coat or winter boots and somehow pulled through minus twenty-ridiculous temperatures with layers of clothing. Just. That kind of weather is not fun, especially when you're downtown and the horrible icy wind from the tall buildings and the lake is blowing in your face, you just think: "I'D TAKE A RAINY AFTERNOON IN GUISELEY OVER THIS!". Then you look at the CN Tower and come to your senses. But yeah, apologies about not doing a proper blog for about two and a half months (this is me pretending you really care), but look, you're reading this one, so shut up. So what's happened in 2010?

I'm now into the second half of my working visa programme, and the "working" part is still happening. Yeah, I'm still getting paid minimum wage for serving people who seem to lose their common sense as soon as they walk into a movie theatre. And this has become all the more apparent since I was trained on Box Office, which now means I can sell tickets, or alternatively, take abuse and phone calls at Guest Services. I don't mind this role sometimes, it's pretty easy and a bit more dignified than some of the other jobs and you're actually helping people make the biggest decisions they'll make.. in a cinema.. that day. Although at times, it's skull-crushingly dull, especially since our theatre's box office is separated from the level with all the screens and stuff on, so your only company are guests compared to a wealth of lovely co-workers when you work on floor, cleaning theatres and the like (which I actually miss).

Still, work is very regular at the moment and I'm managing to hit 40 hours a week pretty much every week now, which means I can live alright and save (more on that later) - a big difference from the "pay day poverty crawls " of last year...although if I have extra money, it goes on practically nothing because I'm an idiot. The ridiculous late night shifts seem to have disappeared since I was trained on Box as well, as I now work very respectable day shifts - good for some, but this is the first time since probably Year 11 that I've had to get up early everyday for five or six days in a row. And I fucking hate early mornings. What kind of lowlife goes to watch a film at 10.30am? Sub-human scum, that's who.

Aside from work, there's been a few rad happenings, some of which I missed because of work. Shitbags. The ones I did attend included my birthday last week, which was a right mess, running into Mr James Moore of UK Thrash metallers Seregon fame downtown for some chicken n' booze in February and a couple of leaving parties, one for Min at work and another for my housemate Arnaud. My house is still a revolving door of nationalities, two French guys left and an 18-year old Californian model moved in (steady, she's with her brother..not like that.. I don't.. think), but I've really grown to appreciate the place, especially when you come downstairs and there's food on the table, and Carey is like:"Have some food and wine!" and you're like: "No, I'm good man, I've got my own" and he's like "I WON'T REST UNTIL YOU'VE EATEN IT", so you have to eat it, and it's good. There's been heavy doses of cinema watching, drinking non-warm beer and hanging out, maxin', relaxin' etc on my days off in the past couple of months, including a very strange day on a chillier Toronto island recently, which involved a nutter attacking trees and proclaiming he was Satan. That's Toronto for ya. I've also watched quite a lot of (real) football this month, unlike hockey... which brings me onto my next point.

That's right, the Olympic Games happened. Ok, it was at the other side of the country, but everyone went nuts for it over here, especially the hockey. I didn't really pay much interest in it, I watched a few of the events on TV and some of them were pretty interesting, but I was generally very apathetic to it. The Canadians of course, went into patriotic overdrive, which was obvious from the TV coverage which proclaimed that they were going to win everything and everyone else in the world was shit. Turns out they weren't far wrong and I witnessed first-hand patriotism after the gold medal hockey final - me and a mate went to a pub after work on that day whilst the hockey was playing, purposefully going somewhere that didn't have a TV so it'd be a bit quieter -turns out they did have a TV, and upon leaving the place, Toronto seemed to turn into a drunken flag-waving zoo, which was nice to see, I guess. But ultimately, it just made me think: "The World Cup is going to shit all over this". And now, with a little bit of milder weather, I'm looking forward to it even more, roll on June (and please Leeds, don't fuck promotion up..)! Canada is a great country, but hockey is rubbish. Sorry.

The worst thing that has happened in 2010 so far is the fact that I lost my February Metropass in the middle of February, meaning I wasted about sixty bucks of my hard-earned money and lost the freedom to go wherever I wanted for a couple of weeks. Truely heartbreaking. However, I also discovered the wonders of Skype recently, so now I can call home for pennies whenever I want. Add me (lazydog03) if you want to hear how much my accent hasn't changed since I've been away.

My good friend Lev finally booked his flights over for May 3rd the other day, and along with my fellow English Torontonian Cam, we shall finally be escaping T.O for a week! A trip has been planned and estimated for Toronto > New York > Boston > Montreal and then back to reality, so I'm well looking forward to that and getting out of this (lovely) city for a bit. I'll have more about that trip next time, or maybe just pictures from it if I don't pull my finger out and only write a blog when I come back. It seems very odd that I'm using money I've saved up whilst over here to pay for this trip considering I was scraping by to even survive back in November. I'm so glad I got more regular hours at work or I don't think I'd be going anywhere until I went home, which would have been a bit of a waste of an opportunity.

As for my plans after this, currently, all I know is I have a flight booked home for August 12th. I'll be back at the cinema straight after I come back from this trip in May and probably work like a prisoner of war horse until July, when I'll do the second round of travelling. At the moment, I'm contemplating getting a Greyhound North American pass thing, which is usually 200 dollars for seven days, but apparently, if you're a HI-hostel member which I am, you can upgrade it to 15 days for free , which seems so liberating to me - you could literally go anywhere in Canada or the US for dirt cheap. This is still a foetus of an idea and I still fancy exploring Eastern Canada more, so there could even be three trips in the works - stay tuned for useless information you don't care about! Hooray!

That's it for now. Thanks for reading and a special thank you for anyone who's complimented my blog in real life or on Facebook, you're my heroes. Toronto is still being good to me. Now excuse me, I must drink some of this Canada Dry and beat up a raccoon. Good evening.

Maximum respect

Full story here.

Not much to say about this one apart from "LOL!". I love how the guy who took the picture feels guilty now about how that worker is probably going to get fired. If someone took a picture like this in England, they'd probably be foaming at the mouth and wouldn't rest until he was on the streets with only a cardboard sign to his name...

I do see a lot of TTC workers lounging around though which, when they apparently get paid quite a lot (I mean, how hard is driving a tram IN A STRAIGHT LINE!?), shouldn't really happen, eh?

TOthousand and TOn in TO

"This isn't cold. I'm not even wearing my winter jacket!"

Yo, I finally found enough motivation to write another one of these and hey, it's a new decade after all. Or is it? Someone argued with me last week about the fact that this isn't a new decade, because they started at 1AD, not 0AD, when Mary squeezed out that magic fetus amongst disease-ridden donkeys in a wooden shack in the modern day Gaza Strip (or whatever). I choose to ignore them. Happy New Decade you arse! But anyway, what's been going on since I last blogged way back in November...

Well, work. And a lot of it. I was finally freed from the shackles of popcorn selling in December and given the run of the cinema. That's right, I now get to do jobs as varied as ripping up people's tickets, walking into theatres and making a noise to check if anyone else is making a noise, cleaning people's mess after the shows, cleaning people's mess in the toilets or (and this one's been quite prominent this month), sitting in our big IMAX and making sure no one steals the 3D glasses, which are apparently worth 40 bucks or something. I don't understand why everyone gets excited about IMAX, I mean, it's alright, but there's one in fucking Bradford, and it's got a museum with it...

Part of the reason I've been working so much and in IMAX is because of that film about the Iraq war the blue men, y'know, Smurfatar. Avatwat. Avargoifyouthinkyerardenoughtar. It's a pretty good film and most definitely impressive, despite a pretty rubbish story, but it's been sold out on IMAX everyday since it's release and the regular 3D shows also tend to sell very well, which meant that over the Christmas period at least, I did nine out of 10 days, with Christmas Day my only respite (which was a bloody good respite, more on that later). I've seen the film way too many times now though and find it more interesting staring at guests or at the wall, which is a shame. Working a great deal has been a bit of a hard hitting novelty for me, considering I've never really worked fulltime. It's also a ballache when you have to count all the glasses at the end of the day and miss the last subway and have to wait for the nightbus in the bitter, freezing, hellish cold....

Oh yes, the cold. Last blog I complained about the lack of snow. Well, to be honest, we haven't had much. It seems there's been a lot more of the white stuff (easy) at home which is very strange. But I doubt they've had "feels like -29 degrees celsius" temperatures at home. I'm not programmed for this kind of weather, my face tends to go redder than usual and I can't feel any of my toes. And yet Torontonians (see subtitle) still call me a pansy and tell me this isn't cold. HOW MUCH COLDER DO YOU WANT TO GO!? It slightly concerns me that there's months of this yet and my primary goal is to survive.

But anyway, despite the long hours and coldness, I still don't hate work and it's having its advantages. I'm still living on the worst food possible for my health at work, yet the amount of walking around I do has caused me to lose weight and feel generally fitter. And of course, I'm getting paid more, so instead of buying one tin of tuna, I might buy two tins and a tin of sweetcorn. And a high quality carrot. No but seriously, the extra money, plus the funds I got from my family for Christmas, will bolster my bank account so I can escape the city whilst I'm still legally allowed to be in this country. Oh and also, I've been eating these.. the best cookies.. no.. food I think I've ever tasted, along with Pop Tarts. They're like crack. Except crack isn't on offer at Walmart. Everyone start putting money into my Paypal account, and I'll bring you some back. Probably.



So yeah, other than work... CHRISTMAS! Yes, that happened. This one was the first time away from my family, and I was very kindly invited to Steve and Sophie's, fellow British people, where a load of us had a very British Christmas, eating too much and drinking too much. I managed to call my family on Christmas Day and of course, that time of the year is always where you're gonna be thinking about your producers and fellow producees more and of course, although I haven't really been homesick since I've been here, I do miss my family, naturally. I bought myself some trainers and a pair of Gears of War boxer shorts, the latter of which are probably the coolest gift anyone has ever bought me. Take note, everyone else.

A few days later and it was New Years Eve. For me, the most overrated night of the year and despite being in a different country, it still blew chunks. Literally. Playing catch up made me go home early and make a mess of the subway (SO sorry TTC cleaners). At least I got to see in the New Year. Also this month I went to some lovely celebrations of birthdays.

On the downside, some lovely people left the country. Ahh.. the downsides of being a traveller. R.I.P Vanesa from work, Aidan from my house and if I didn't mention it, Mr Daniel Thornton from err. Bradford. All shall be missed.

In sports news, I worked the NFL Bills vs Jets game at the Rogers Centre. Once a year, The Buffalo Bills (a rubbish team) play a game in Toronto and naturally, I was excited at seeing "futuristic rugby", as I've played Madden games for years and since I've been over here, watched plenty of it on TV (It's better than ice hockey, come on. And I just saw an advert for "The National World Cup of Curling".. Canadian sports blow). So I was vastly disappointed when, after serving fat Americans buffalo wings (whatever they are) for hours, I got a break at midnight and I could finally sneak out and have a look at the game. Of course, it was over and I went home disappointed. CHAAAAAAAARGGGGGGGGGGEEEEEEEEEE!1111111

Another sporting disappointment occurred yesterday. Well, of course, it wasn't disappointing, it was the biggest victory my beloved Leeds United have had in years, yet I missed it because I was sleeping. ARGHHHHH!

2010 then. Have my plans changed? They change all the time. Originally it was to stay here until spring, then go to Vancouver and work. But I'm not so sure now, after the hassle of finding a job in Toronto, and the fact I'm not a wealthy man to be able to fund myself without a job for very long. But, as long as I get to a few trips out - Montreal, New York and something incredibly great outdoors-ish WILL be done - I'll be happy. And with the extra hours at work, I will definitely get to trek out of the city for the first time in almost three months, like a clear air deprived Victorian smog monkey-child.

I've also had ideas recently about doing this whole thing again but going and staying out west instead as I'm technically doing this "working holiday" as a student, and I'm allowed to do it once again before I'm 30, so.. we shall see. Another thing to look forward to are the visits from buddies at home in the next few months, which will be proper champion. Seriously, if anyone is thinking of coming or is gonna be around, PLEASE let me know, I'd love to put you up and show you around. I might let you touch me as well.

So everything is cool yo, don't worry. I can see the CN Tower from my window and Canadian Blind Date is about to start. Ahem. Bye for now!

TERKERJAWB in TO

"Can I take this popcorn into the cinema?"


Oh, hello there again. Another month goes by, and another month is encapsulated into a short blog post. Well, that's what happens when... typing is a bit of an effort because you have a tiny keyboard?! Scrap that. On with the show.

So, when I last wrote sum werds on dis payge, I had just secured a job at the literal Theatre of Dreams, although not so much Dreams, just a Theatre. And spelt Theater, because apparently it's considered trendy to spell things wrong in North America. And for the past month, a great deal of my time has been spent inside it, selling drinks, popcorn, candy and nachos for RIDICULOUS prices for RIDICULOUSLY poor wages. But in spite of that, the rewards have been good. Plenty of nice colleagues, the bonuses such as; gift vouchers, free films (although I've seen more shite films than good - 2012 and The Men Who Stare at Goats were absolutely diabolical Jeff), the discounted food and free drinks and tea(!!) and finally having (some) money coming in, which has made me solvent in Canada at last. And apparently I will FINALLY graduate from being a popcorn bitch to getting to sweep cinemas and tearing up tickets soon, which almost seems a bigger achievement than graduating with a journalism degree. Sort of.

I have been pretty poor this month though, since the pay is obviously rubbish and shifts vary from plentiful to meagre, but I can afford rent (which I will come to), bargain food, the odd night out, the odd big big purchase and a metropass (godly).
I think the job will work financially for the time being, although with Christmas and some extra jobs coming up (I get to be a hotdog bitch for an NFL game in a couple of weeks, exciting), I should be comfortable like it was bloody September the 3rd all over again. However, I might have to scale down my ambitious plans to travel extensively next year and face the harsh reality that I'll be working somewhere else in this bloody big country at some point. Although...although.. I desperately want to get into bartending or serving or something, because that's where the money is. Tipping is ridiculous here, they tip on everything from coat checking to hairdressing, so I'm trying to crack that market. Failing that, get a journalism job, but.... that'd feel too much like a career.. and that wasn't really the point coming here.

But yes, it appears I am once again living the student lifestyle. Back to noodles, cereal bars and soup, sleeping in until silly times on days off and watching endless amounts of South Park. Only now I have the added bonus of 50 percent off at fast food outlets at work, meaning I get things like Whopper meals for three dollars, which for better or for worse, seem to keep me alive, but ironically, will probably kill me. I now also have more travelling than I did at uni, thanks to the location of my house, but the almighty metropass keeps me in business. Compared to travelling on the London Underground, the TTC (Toronto Transit..Cocks?) seems pretty reasonable to me; $2.75 for ANY journey in one direction, even if you took the subway, streetcar AND the bus, and doesn't give a shit about zoning - even then, people are always complaining about it. True, the system isn't a patch on Lundun's, but there's little complaints from me with this pass though, when you pay $100 a month and then just wave it at some TTC bloke's face and they let you on whatever and go wherever. Magic.

Now the reason I get so much use out of the pass is because of the said location of my house. At the backend of October, I was panicking a bit about finding somewhere to live with the deadline for hostel chucking out creeping up like a really nasty man. I looked around a few places, but finally settled on a quite studenty looking place on Dufferin Street, about 30 minutes from downtown. The rent is reasonable, there's laundry downstairs, the bus outside comes every 5 minutes, my bedroom has a big window and a tv (Canadian TV is still gash though) and there's constantly people around, usually ogling a big projector downstairs, which is a definite bonus. My housemates are cool and massively diverse (Canadian, Irish, French, Russian), a bit like the area itself, which seems to be a poorer version of Little Italy, which is full of fancy shops and shit, whereas my hood is mainly populated with dollar stores, but it's pretty quiet and I've yet to see any shots fired at buses (which has happened in this area before. No, really. And no, this isn't the ghetto at all, so don't...). I could end up moving if I get sick of the journey to work or simply not being close enough to downtown (it sometimes takes one hour getting to work if the bus and two subways decide to be shits) but I kind of like being away from the hassle and the hobos and the looming skyscrapers, so this will do for now thanks.

So yes, it appears I am finally settled in Toronto, with a house and a job and an endless supply of cheap food - I can't give No Frills and (suprisingly) Walmart, enough credit. 79 cent tuna?! Yer 'avin a laugh! And Walmart do bloody George clothes, my mum's choice of christmas present socks and underwear for me since I was five! Just like home!

With being a bit skinter, the fun has taken a bit of a hit recently, but I've still managed to have a right old good time - been oot and aboot a few times - Halloween was a particular highlight where budget zombie costume produced the goods in more ways than one, as was a British poker night where I came third somehow (and then afterwards eating nachos in a bar that served food until 4am, unbelievable) and I've also played a copious amount of Pro Evo at my mate John's place, which has made me think longingly about my Xbox at home, sitting there, not being used, slowing rotting, crying inside. Pain. And of course I've seen loads of films, for free. I also managed to get to my first gig since being over here at the start of November when I saw Gwar at the Sound Academy with my mate Tom, which was absolutely mind-blowing. I think Gwar are possibly my favourite band of all time due to their insane stage shows, and if you don't like them, check this out and then bow to me, cos I'm da best innit.

Toronto seems to have a reputation here for being unfriendly, and sometimes it can definitely appear that way, but I still enjoy the place, and big city living is still a massive novelty for me. Things just never end here. Everything is around the corner. Places you never knew existed become your favourites. And it appears everyone else likes it - at least two Brits I know who have left Toronto for other parts of Canada have since come back - this city is definitely a stable starting block - unfriendly and expensive but welcoming and opportunistic.. juxtapositionmentaltastic. I'll definitely stay here until at least Spring, when my patience for concrete wears thin and I long for bears, mooses and big mountains and shit.

Now, where's my snow you bastard?

Oot and Aboot

"Isn't he cute?" "Not really" "No.. his accent." "Oh.. yeah."

Oh dear, oh dear. This is turning into less of a blog and more of a bloody monthly Reader's Digest. With less.. err.. I dunno, I've never read it. It's got recipes in it hasn't it? Yeah, there's none of them. I'm going to start charging soon. Would you pay? Of course you wouldn't, what a silly thought.

So then right. Since the last time I posted, which is sickeningly over 6 weeks ago, a hell of a bloody lot has happened. Let me take you back to that time. I was still in a horrific hostel by the name of Global Backpackers Village back then, which now I am out of it's sordid grasp, I can honestly say was a complete and utter "sordid little grief hole", as a character played by Chris Morris once said. Oh, for hindsight. Anyway, I left a few days later and moved into another hostel, Hostelling International Toronto, where bizarrely, I still reside.

Anyway, more of that later. Around the time I first joined HI, I was still heavily focused on finding jobs. The endless cycle of CV handing out and bullshit cover letters and stuff isn't fun, and any preconceptions about the recession being any less over here were quickly dashed. Yeah, there is plenty of jobs about, but only with about a hundred billion applicants desperately clambering to make 25 cents by licking the shit off drive-thru banks. Probably.

Drive-thru banks eh. Fucking hell. One thing that hadn't at the time and still hasn't diminished is the sheer hilarity of Toronto. From the ridiculous adverts on TV, to the shop names (Excellent Haircut...Nice One Nails..) to the most insane things you've ever seen like.. a hobo shitting on a church (less funny, more gip-worthy)... they all just give me a very warped view of this city. And I have grown fond of it's twisted ridiculousness. Even the graffiti is better than Britain. I mean, I have genuine respect for people who dawb "Give up, you're too old!" over Jay-Z posters or scrawl "You're ruining our childhood!" over an Astroboy movie poster.

I don't truely believe I'm seeing the real Canada here, and I've heard this view echoed to me by other people. It's not started snowing here yet, it's getting cold a bit (I'm WELL not prepared for that), but Toronto does seem like a bit of any big American city I've seen on TV, with people who say "oot and aboot" and like waving their flags. It's extremely multicultural, which is of course, a good thing (+2 points for my liberalism there), but I think I shall have to wait until next year before I see the whole bear-moose-mountie thing. There's plenty of ice hockey ABOOT EH, but with the form the Toronto Maple Leafs are in, I think I'll steer well clear. Seven losses in a row?! Oh, how I yearn to watch highlights and goals from the INCREDIBLY mighty Leeds ripping up League One at the moment on the BBC Sport website. Bloody restrictions!

Anyway, yes. The job situation grated on me muchly, but plenty of things were going on. I happened to see Ricky Gervais in the street getting out of a limo at the Toronto International Film Festival which was nice, and definitely worth mentioning you "that-isn't-fucking-interesting-Paul"-tossbanana. Socially, I've met a helluva lot of English people this month, including my main boys and current room-mates in the rather nice HI-Hostel, the Room 801 West Yorkshire massive, Dan, Tom and Neil (AKA "the Nesbitt"). Yeah, they come from Bradford. What's that shit?!

I've also had SWAPers coming out of my ears (sadly not in reality yet...er..) and the majority of night outs have included some or all of them. The hostel itself throws up some interesting characters on occasion and we also got taught beer pong by some really quite young college girls before everything sort of went wrong, but that story isn't very interesting. Promise.

But yeah, that's right, I'm still in a hostel after seven weeks. But it's not a case of waking up to find a smelly Chinese bloke going mental inside a dustbin at 6am - after living with another two bloody nice chaps on top of the current Room 801 roster for a couple of weeks at the end of September, we booked into a semi-private room at the start of October, meaning it was just four of us. Cabin fever does occasionally set in, but no one has died. Yet. My bet is on Neil. Things like ninjavideo (New Peep Show is WIZARD!), Chris Morris quotes and a bloody amazing game called Simsoc (much recommended for fans of 96-97 Premiership footballers and early Champ Manager games) do make the time go quicker and provide us all with a bloody laugh. Like Neil.



We've managed a few nice trips during this month though as the job search sort of faltered and then finally succeeded. The CN Tower was a little bit of a let down (it's just a big tower innit) - the views were ok, but I probably would have felt a bit let down had it not cost about 12 dollars thanks to a left voucher from our fleeting friends Ozzie "croc" Melissa and Nic (she was from Bradford, what's that shit again). Niagara Falls was lovely though, despite being a load of old water - it was nice to get out of the city for a day and see some different coloured trees. Some bits were a let down though - the world's most dangerous whirlpool was a complete and utter scam and the supposedly picturesque Town of Niagara was overrun with tourist scum like ourselves. We also went to Woodbine races on Saturday, where we lost loads of money and cried ourselves to sleep on the way home on the bus.

Toronto it seems isn't a huge attraction place, so whilst I'm Toronto, I do plan to get out to some of the other famous cities around here - Montreal, Quebec City and Ottawa (where two of my room mates are currently doing).

So, onto jobs. Ah, firstly, one thing I did manage was to sign up to an agency on the spot in mid-September and find myself serving U2 fans hotdogs at two dates those Oirish dolts did at the Rogers Centre. Not much to report there, but on a side note, I found myself at the Rogers Centre quite a few times after this, bizarrely because I seemed to find myself drawn to baseball. I mean yeah, it could be because it was 11 dollars and I didn't have anything else to do, but the last game I saw was genuinely gripping, and I even ended up buying a Blue Jays watch for work! WORK! Yes, a few weeks ago, I got a call back from Scotiabank cinema, a cinema where I watched Inglorious Basterds at with my mate Mr Daniel Sawicki at the start of September (to review, it was ok, bit over-Tarantino-y, but whatever, I haven't even seen Pulp Fiction and even I made that judgement so it can't have been that good.. I've also seen District 9 which was bloody superb and Zombieland which was alright, wordy reviews over), and they gave me the job straight away at the interview.

In summary, it's minimum wage, and at the moment, I'm not sure I can live off it exclusively. But for what it is, after working about four or five shifts now, I can honestly say it's pretty good for a part time job. I finally get to meet some real Canadians and I get picked up on by my englishness a lot; take a look at that ruddy bold title at the top for a TERRIBLE example, but I reckon it helps - I sold the most popcorn/drink/candy combos last week, which was kind of the corniest and best thing ever, and I got a 25 dollar gift voucher for a restaurant AND I get to see the equivalent of a free film a week, so don't... Also, it means some of those lovely Toronto girls HAVE to talk to me..

In short, yes, I'm a journalism graduate who now works for Cineplex Canada and stinks of popcorn. Wandafideaboudid?!

Anyway, with some income coming in now, and with a bit of luck, an extra bit on the cards if I can find another job for over Christmas, I am in the process (I say process, that mainly just means wasting time on the motherfucking internet)of finding somewhere to live of my own for November.

And that's me for now. The Canadian dream is still alive! Things will change in a few weeks and I'll have to adapt or die. Stay tuned to see if I die. Hope you're having a nice time in Britain and go and check out my photos on Facebook you big spazz!