the devil made me do it


Dumpling House, Chinatown Toronto, Feb. 9, 2008. No service, no atmosphere. Just a big plate of dumplings for six bucks.

Tyler’s been bugging me to write a blog. A lot. It’s really easy for him to do, since he sits right behind me at work. In truth, I do have a few things to write about. I suppose sometimes it’s good to have something give you a little push, even if that something is an angry man yelling obscenities over your cubicle wall.

So yeah, jobs. I have one now. It’s in uptown Toronto and it’s great because I get to work with Ty who was my roommate in college. But more than that, it feels like this company is on the move. There is a subtle urgency in the air that I didn’t feel when I was working in London, and it’s kind of exciting. I’m going on a week’s worth of training to be held in the conference hall of some hotel next week, and the company meeting at the end of the month (that I had to RSVP for) is being held at some convention centre. It’s all a little more dramatic, everything feels a little more “big league”.

Maybe it’s just a part of big-city culture. I see people on the subway here working on laptops or memorizing cue-cards for a presentation, and everybody has a Blackberry (they’re not facebooking, either).

After circling and crossing out most of the ads in my inch-thick copy of the GTA Edition of the Renter’s News, I finally found a place that I’m excited to move into. Real estate prices and rent in Toronto is cheap by a lot of other big city standards, but it’s still a hell of a lot more than I’m used to paying. The place I found is within my budget, modern and comfortable looking, and not situated in an area I might feel the need to carry weapons in. And there seems to be a lot of girls living there. A lot of girls. I should start up a touch football league this summer. I’ll be shirts, you be skins.