These past few days I have been fortunate to attend a conference for Fundraising Professionals. This may not sound super exciting to you reading, but the past three days have been the most eye-opening and inspiring days in regards to my future.
Now, of course, there was a downside to this. Being among a huge number of influential professionals in the fundraising field, I had to look professional. I had to wear pantyhose and high heels. The resulting look was what I like to call "Philanthropist Barbie". (I think this term is hilarious, and will likely be using it everytime I dress up leggy-like. Be prepared.)
"What is your point?" You may be saying to yourself.
"Get on with it." You think as your attention wanes.
Believe it or not, the point of this is about another bit of kindness in Toronto.
Wearing heels all day is generally not something I do, and I was paying for it by the end of the day. Paying with pain.
The subway car I was on was packed full and everyone was scowling and looking off into space. I wanted to cry because I was standing, and knew I would continue to do so for the next half hour amongst other cranky, tired people. I became resigned to this fact, which caused my face to match all the other unhappy souls on the subway.
I felt someone tap my arm and clear space on the seat next to them. He had a guitar and bags and a jacket and he moved them all out of the way so I could sit down. My feet sighed and grinned in appreciation, and I immediately decided that we were going to be friends. We chatted for the rest of the trip. I found out that he teaches music and lives in the same neighbourhood. I guessed that he played classical guitar, as I observed very long fingernails on his right hand. Turns out he plays flamenco and jazz, and he has been to the Halifax Jazz Festival a few times. We discussed music, the maritimes, the subway and human nature, all in just 20 minutes.
Then my stop came up. We nodded our goodbyes and went our separate ways. I will probably never see this person who went out of his way to show me some kindness, and it is better that way. In this giant mess of a city, these brief moments of humanity with no strings attatched seem even sweeter.
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
Sunday, November 16, 2008
Gillian vs. Revolving Door
This past weekend I went to Waterloo. It was a great visit and I came back to Toronto refreshed, rested and revitalized.
I felt pretty much on-top of the world, and the trip back went very smoothly. For the most part.
When I got to Union Station, I had to get onto the Subway. I approached the one way revolving door blissfully. Unknowing of what I was about to endure.
I swiped my metro-pass.
I started going through the door.
The revolving door stopped.
I was stuck.
The space you stand in is very small. I had two bags, One of my bags was STUCK in the door jam behind me. No problem, I'll just go backwards. Not an option. The door was forward only. I squirmed around and I became more stuck. People are walking by and staring.
I am on display like a goldfish in a fishbowl.
Obviously, I got out. But I was so embarrassed, and my cheeks were burning the entire way home. The worst part of the entire story was the fact that I didn't have to go through the revolving door... There were 4 other entry points, with no way to be trapped.
I felt pretty much on-top of the world, and the trip back went very smoothly. For the most part.
When I got to Union Station, I had to get onto the Subway. I approached the one way revolving door blissfully. Unknowing of what I was about to endure.
I swiped my metro-pass.
I started going through the door.
The revolving door stopped.
I was stuck.
The space you stand in is very small. I had two bags, One of my bags was STUCK in the door jam behind me. No problem, I'll just go backwards. Not an option. The door was forward only. I squirmed around and I became more stuck. People are walking by and staring.
I am on display like a goldfish in a fishbowl.
Obviously, I got out. But I was so embarrassed, and my cheeks were burning the entire way home. The worst part of the entire story was the fact that I didn't have to go through the revolving door... There were 4 other entry points, with no way to be trapped.
Thursday, November 13, 2008
Bladder-Karma
After class today, and some group work -my friend invited me along to have dinner with her and her cousin and some others. I was a bit hesitant at first, but I like meeting new people. The fact that they were going to an Indian restaurant certainly helped. The food was absolutely delicious and bountiful. I was continually encouraged to eat more, but it is incredibly filling - and quickly I was fuller than I have been in a long, long time. The conversation was varied and interesting, and I felt completely at home with everyone.
After dinner, we departed with a flurry of voiced goodbyes, waves and a few (surprising) hugs. They piled into a car and went one way. I waited on a nearby corner for the streetcar.
This would normally be a good end to an adventure. But some generally-interesting things happened on the way home.
1. While waiting for the streetcar, An older gentleman (I think he said he was 45) came up to me and started lecturing me on how I should never get married, and certainly never have children. After the initial bombardment, I asked why, and he gave me a slew of reasons. They all revolved around his (soon to be) ex-wife, how she cheated, that he caught her, she pulled a knife on him, and now she is keeping his kids away from him. I am sure that there is more than one side to this story, but I'll let that go. What was kind of funny was that he seemed rather distressed, not about his situation - but rather that I wouldn't promise him that I would never get married.
2. Once on the streetcar, I sat by a window so I could take in the sights. (At this point I would like to note that I go to school in Etobioke. I have yet to see a nice part of the area. I'm not saying it doesn't exist, I'm just saying that I haven't seen it yet.) On the streetcar sitting adjacent to me were two, very baked, Humber College students. How did I know they were baked? The incessant giggling. How did |I know that they were Humber students? The Humber book bag. Now, the point of this short story revolves around this bookbag. When the girl got up from her seat at the window to get off the streetcar, they didn't really utilize their motor-skills. At one point, her bookbag swung and smucked her male companion right in the mouth. He was in pain. She was apologizing. I was snickering.
3. Karma catches up with me at this point for the snickering at the high couple with the book bag and the bloody lip. The street car is SLOW. I would like to state this right now. I had drank a lot of water in the restaurant, and now - nowhere near my stop - I have to pee. Sitting on the streetcar for likely 45 minutes, I have to pee the ENTIRE time. I finally get off at my stop where I then need to wait for the bus. In the cold. With a full bladder. 5 minutes. 10 minutes. 15 minutes. 20 minutes go by. I am going to die. So I leave the stop to find some cafe or something to use the facilities. Just as I am turning the corner, the bus I had been waiting for rolls on by. Gaaaahhh! Like I said Karma. When my bladder is back to its normal size again, I resume my spot at the bus station, and in what seems like no time at all - another bus swoops by, I hop on, and am back on track for home.
Lessons learned:
Drink lots of water. But use a restroom before starting a 1.5 hour long trek home in the cold.
Don't walk down Queen Street or Lakeshore by yourself at night
Don't laugh at others misfortunes... Unless it is really, just that funny.
Don't get married to a crazy person who will pull a knife on you.
After dinner, we departed with a flurry of voiced goodbyes, waves and a few (surprising) hugs. They piled into a car and went one way. I waited on a nearby corner for the streetcar.
This would normally be a good end to an adventure. But some generally-interesting things happened on the way home.
1. While waiting for the streetcar, An older gentleman (I think he said he was 45) came up to me and started lecturing me on how I should never get married, and certainly never have children. After the initial bombardment, I asked why, and he gave me a slew of reasons. They all revolved around his (soon to be) ex-wife, how she cheated, that he caught her, she pulled a knife on him, and now she is keeping his kids away from him. I am sure that there is more than one side to this story, but I'll let that go. What was kind of funny was that he seemed rather distressed, not about his situation - but rather that I wouldn't promise him that I would never get married.
2. Once on the streetcar, I sat by a window so I could take in the sights. (At this point I would like to note that I go to school in Etobioke. I have yet to see a nice part of the area. I'm not saying it doesn't exist, I'm just saying that I haven't seen it yet.) On the streetcar sitting adjacent to me were two, very baked, Humber College students. How did I know they were baked? The incessant giggling. How did |I know that they were Humber students? The Humber book bag. Now, the point of this short story revolves around this bookbag. When the girl got up from her seat at the window to get off the streetcar, they didn't really utilize their motor-skills. At one point, her bookbag swung and smucked her male companion right in the mouth. He was in pain. She was apologizing. I was snickering.
3. Karma catches up with me at this point for the snickering at the high couple with the book bag and the bloody lip. The street car is SLOW. I would like to state this right now. I had drank a lot of water in the restaurant, and now - nowhere near my stop - I have to pee. Sitting on the streetcar for likely 45 minutes, I have to pee the ENTIRE time. I finally get off at my stop where I then need to wait for the bus. In the cold. With a full bladder. 5 minutes. 10 minutes. 15 minutes. 20 minutes go by. I am going to die. So I leave the stop to find some cafe or something to use the facilities. Just as I am turning the corner, the bus I had been waiting for rolls on by. Gaaaahhh! Like I said Karma. When my bladder is back to its normal size again, I resume my spot at the bus station, and in what seems like no time at all - another bus swoops by, I hop on, and am back on track for home.
Lessons learned:
Drink lots of water. But use a restroom before starting a 1.5 hour long trek home in the cold.
Don't walk down Queen Street or Lakeshore by yourself at night
Don't laugh at others misfortunes... Unless it is really, just that funny.
Don't get married to a crazy person who will pull a knife on you.
Monday, November 10, 2008
Newfoundfear and Clowns Galore.
Something weird...
The day after Halloween, I was walking downtown. It was a bright, brisk and beautiful afternoon. Everything was fine until, I passed an alley way. There was a man dressed up like a clown, complete with makeup and a wig. He was kind of hunched over and stared off into space menacingly. Needless to say, I quickened my pace and watched my back.
No wonder so many children have fears of clowns.
The day after Halloween, I was walking downtown. It was a bright, brisk and beautiful afternoon. Everything was fine until, I passed an alley way. There was a man dressed up like a clown, complete with makeup and a wig. He was kind of hunched over and stared off into space menacingly. Needless to say, I quickened my pace and watched my back.
No wonder so many children have fears of clowns.
Toronto:The Friendly-Unfriendly City
I would like to preface this by saying: "Yes, I talk to strangers. But I am very careful about it."
Every once in a while, I am truly amazed at how much I like it here. I can never be truly in love with a city where humans sleeping over sewage vents in the winter to keep warm is almost a fact of life. I know lots of people do what they can to help, and that is part of what I am amazed about. Toronto has a heart, and I bump into it every once in a while and am suprised. I have proof.
Exhibit A:
I was waiting for my bus on my way home from school one night, and was in a particularily good mood and listening to one of my favourite songs over and over and over and over again. Apparently, I looked like I was in a good mood too, because these two thirteen year old boys came up to me and told me so.
Random Kid 1: "You look really happy. What are you so happy about?"
Me: "I had a good day I suppose"
Random Kid 2: "Don't talk to him. We're having a contest to see how many people we can get to tell us their name."
Random Kid 1: "So yeah, what is your name? I'm currently winning."
Me: "Well, what are your names?"
Random Kid 1: "I'm Sam, and this is Andrew"
Andrew: "Yeah, I'm Andrew."
Me: "Well, you guys probably shouldn't be telling random people your names. I'm not telling you mine." at this point they started walking away, crestfallen so I backtracked and gave them a new option. "You guys can guess."
What followed was one of the most hilarious banters I have ever been a part of. The names they came up with ranged from Dakota to Georgina, and they were budding little comedians. Finally, one of them actually guessed my name right, they celebrated,the bus pulled up, and they ran to talk with the bus driver next. What was really wonderful about the whole thing was that everyone that they talked to transformed into a happy, smiling creature - instead of the expressionless drones that they usually are. I wish I could thank them.
Exhibit B:
Once, on one of the last warm days of October, I glanced across the street from where I was standing, and sitting in a lawn chair, on their roof was a man watching the world from his perch, with his dog as his sole companion. At the risk of sounding creepy, I'll admit that I watched him for some time, and it was incredibly peaceful even though the rest of the world around him was spinning rush-hour fast.
I rest my case.
Every once in a while, I am truly amazed at how much I like it here. I can never be truly in love with a city where humans sleeping over sewage vents in the winter to keep warm is almost a fact of life. I know lots of people do what they can to help, and that is part of what I am amazed about. Toronto has a heart, and I bump into it every once in a while and am suprised. I have proof.
Exhibit A:
I was waiting for my bus on my way home from school one night, and was in a particularily good mood and listening to one of my favourite songs over and over and over and over again. Apparently, I looked like I was in a good mood too, because these two thirteen year old boys came up to me and told me so.
Random Kid 1: "You look really happy. What are you so happy about?"
Me: "I had a good day I suppose"
Random Kid 2: "Don't talk to him. We're having a contest to see how many people we can get to tell us their name."
Random Kid 1: "So yeah, what is your name? I'm currently winning."
Me: "Well, what are your names?"
Random Kid 1: "I'm Sam, and this is Andrew"
Andrew: "Yeah, I'm Andrew."
Me: "Well, you guys probably shouldn't be telling random people your names. I'm not telling you mine." at this point they started walking away, crestfallen so I backtracked and gave them a new option. "You guys can guess."
What followed was one of the most hilarious banters I have ever been a part of. The names they came up with ranged from Dakota to Georgina, and they were budding little comedians. Finally, one of them actually guessed my name right, they celebrated,the bus pulled up, and they ran to talk with the bus driver next. What was really wonderful about the whole thing was that everyone that they talked to transformed into a happy, smiling creature - instead of the expressionless drones that they usually are. I wish I could thank them.
Exhibit B:
Once, on one of the last warm days of October, I glanced across the street from where I was standing, and sitting in a lawn chair, on their roof was a man watching the world from his perch, with his dog as his sole companion. At the risk of sounding creepy, I'll admit that I watched him for some time, and it was incredibly peaceful even though the rest of the world around him was spinning rush-hour fast.
I rest my case.
Monday, November 3, 2008
My, what a pair of Smashing Pumpkins
I feel as though Billy Corgan would mock this blog post. I wouldn't blame him, I mock myself in doing this as well sometimes. It isn't going to stop me though.
Late last night, I recieved an email from The Hour, saying that there was a last minute pre-taping, and that the newly reunited (The) Smashing Pumpkins were going to be interviewed. I asked around to see if anyone else was able to come - no immediate takers, and so, I replied confirming my own spot. That afternoon, I trekked out, solo, with only a few frames left on my roll of film.
When I got to the CBC building (this was my second time to a taping) I signed in, and completely by accident stood in the front of the line instead of the end. I really did not mean too. The cons: I felt like an asshole. The pros: I was at the front of the line baby!
I wasn't quite at the very front, but that was good because the camera was often in front of the first row and blocking their view for much of the interview (suckers!) I didn't get any super pictures of either of the band members, but cropping can do wonders, don't you think?
A friend of mine said he always pictured Corgan as an arrogant, pompus person. Was he wrong? No. I would add though that he is truly passionate about what he does, why he does it, and he really does not care what other people think.He is just as angry as he was when they first started the band. He is also suprisingly funny, and I laughed outloud when he relaxed about halfway through the show and brought out his biting humour.
As a sidenote, Something suprising that may have not known before? The Smashing Pumpkins love Guitar Hero. Like, serious think it's the best thing to have happened to music in decades.
I'll put up some pictures once I get my film developed.
Late last night, I recieved an email from The Hour, saying that there was a last minute pre-taping, and that the newly reunited (The) Smashing Pumpkins were going to be interviewed. I asked around to see if anyone else was able to come - no immediate takers, and so, I replied confirming my own spot. That afternoon, I trekked out, solo, with only a few frames left on my roll of film.
When I got to the CBC building (this was my second time to a taping) I signed in, and completely by accident stood in the front of the line instead of the end. I really did not mean too. The cons: I felt like an asshole. The pros: I was at the front of the line baby!
I wasn't quite at the very front, but that was good because the camera was often in front of the first row and blocking their view for much of the interview (suckers!) I didn't get any super pictures of either of the band members, but cropping can do wonders, don't you think?
A friend of mine said he always pictured Corgan as an arrogant, pompus person. Was he wrong? No. I would add though that he is truly passionate about what he does, why he does it, and he really does not care what other people think.He is just as angry as he was when they first started the band. He is also suprisingly funny, and I laughed outloud when he relaxed about halfway through the show and brought out his biting humour.
As a sidenote, Something suprising that may have not known before? The Smashing Pumpkins love Guitar Hero. Like, serious think it's the best thing to have happened to music in decades.
I'll put up some pictures once I get my film developed.
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