All for Spring Forward!

I was surprised last week when reading a post on the Huffington Post's Living Section about daylight savings time that many people in the comments section were not fans. They complained about how it was so dark in the mornings now, about losing an extra hour of sleep, of how they didn't need that extra hour of light tacked on at the end of the day. I couldn't disagree more!I look forward to 'springing forward' and putting the clocks one hour ahead from the moment we put the clocks back in November.

Psychologically, turning the clocks back in November really affects me. It's hard to look outside the window around 5 pm and have it already be dark. Somehow I always think of the days as being a lot more difficult to get through when they get dark so early, which is actually kind of odd because you could argue that it's easier to get through a day when it appears to end sooner. Either way, I always feel this undeniable sense of relief when I turn the clocks forward in March. I've made it through another winter, another period of dark days and cold weather, and for the foreseeable future it's bright days ahead. It's a really great feeling, and a feeling that easily gets me through those first few mornings when it's tough to lose out on an hour of sleep.

In early March, so before the clocks had changed, I came upon this recording of a cool radio segment about a woman who had spent one year in Antarctica - from September to March there was 24 hours of daylight, and from March to September 24 hours of darkness. She described how she suffered from a hormonal imbalance called T3 syndrome (which is caused by lack of light) during the long winter. She said her brain literally slowed down and stopped working as well. But on the flip side, she talked about how amazing it was to step outside in the middle of the afternoon and see a dark sky full of stars. She said seeing both the moon and planet Mars were especially fabulous; and that it seemed like Mars was shining extra bright just for her. I listened to the radio segment twice because I liked it so much. And while I would have to be paid millions of dollars to even consider spending an entire winter in Antarctica, I do have to admit that seeing the stars and Mars and the moon in the middle of the afternoon would be incredible. Even on the darkest day of winter here, I can never see stars as soon as it gets dark.

It's interesting that the majority of those Huffington Post commentators seemed to want lightness in the morning as opposed to at night. Even though I tend to usually get up fairly early, I would always much rather have the extra hour of light at the end of the day. It's nice to have brightness outside for longer; you can leave your lights off for longer, can walk home in daylight at 7 pm... Although over this past fall and winter I've realized how pleasant it is to wake up to/with natural sunlight. My bedroom in my apt in Austin last year was so dark. I always kept the blinds closed as the windows opened onto the outdoor hallway, which other people in the apt complex walked on everyday. I spent as much time as I could in the rest of my apt, really only going into my bedroom to sleep. My bedroom in Toronto, however, has three windows. I keep the curtains open all the time on two of them and I get so much natural light. The mornings that I do sleep in and wake up when it's already bright are really lovely; it feels as though the light is gently lulling me awake. I am determined that wherever I live next year, my bedroom must have an abundance of natural light. Until then, I am going to enjoy springing forward into longer and brighter days.

To The Suburbs & Back

Ever since I was little, I'd been one of those city people who loved big cities and everything they offered, and had never been able to understand why people chose to live in the suburbs. I pictured row upon row of identical houses (with identical swimming pools to match), boring strip malls, being so far away from the action and the interesting restaurants/streets/houses/buildings/cafes/museums/etc in the actual city, and wondered - where is the appeal in that? Living in midtown/north Toronto my whole life, when leaving my house, 9 times out of 10 I headed south (towards downtown and the lake), except if I was going to A.'s house, or to the grocery store. But all that changed last September, when I started working in the far northeast corner of the city, and even more so this past January, when I started working in Markham - a quintessential suburb of Toronto.

I first drove out to the Markham campus of the school I work at a few days before classes started - to both make sure I could find it, and to get a lay of the land. Despite being from Toronto, I could only remember having gone to Markham once before, on the last day of school of grade 11. A girl in the grade above lived in Markham and her family was moving, so she had a party in a house without furniture. Although, there were so many people there, I almost didn't notice the lack of it. Everyone sat on the floor, signing yearbooks, talking, drinking beer. I sat next to my boyfriend at the time, who was a year ahead and was graduating, and listened to him and his friends celebrate the fact that they were done. Around midnight we went for a walk down the street, him so happy he was done high school and going to university, me sad for the same reasons. After a few blocks there wasn't much more to say, and I became aware of how quiet it was - a suburban quiet I thought at the time, one I was sure didn't exist anywhere in Toronto.

Now I go to Markham twice a week; I'm the opposite of the norm, as unlike the thousands of people who live in the suburbs and work in the city, I work in the suburbs and live in the city. I have to admit I like it. It's true I don't see a lot of it. My work is right off the highway, so my perception of Markham is somewhat limited. But my building has great views (albeit mostly of the highway and cars but you can see a lot of sky too) and is convenient to get to. Since I'm going against the normal traffic flow, it doesn't take long to get to and from work. In fact, the longest part of my drive is after I get off the highway back in Toronto and have to navigate city streets to get to my house.

Old habits die hard though. Despite having made this drive many times now, and accepting that I work in Markham, whenever I pass the big Toronto sign (see picture below) on highway 404 as I drive home from work, I always feel mildly glad and relieved to be back in the city. One Monday in February there was a big snowstorm which caused horrible traffic going both directions on the 404 and I was half an hour late for my writing class downtown. At the break I explained to everyone that I was late because I work in Markham, but then quickly added "I don't live there though!" Afterwards I was really embarrassed I'd placed such emphasis on not having lived there, like I thought it was somehow a bad thing. I realized that if I've learned anything in my time working in Markham, it's that the people who work and go to school there are really great, and do not at all fit the silly stereotypes I had of people who live in the suburbs. In fact, I'm really glad I've had the opportunity to have a lot of my stereotypes debunked. And while I suspect there will always be a part of me that wants to make it very clear to other people that I do not live in the suburbs, I think that from now on I'll be able to do a better job keeping it in check.

Marvels of Matching

Over the past two months I've seen so many people wearing their Red Vancouver 2010 mitts. It was exciting each and every time to see that I was wearing the same mitts as someone else (and that they were obviously as excited about the Olympics as I was), and it reminded me how fabulous I think it is to match!

It's odd in a way, because aren't we supposed to want to stand out? be individual? not share our pants/shoes/socks/accessories/style with others? And matching, in some ways, goes against all that. In one of my favourite episodes of Beverly Hills 90210 Brenda and Kelly wore the exact same dress to the prom. How terrible!! High school prom dresses and wanting to be unique aside, it's really fun to match! Plus it's very easy to do it in a way that combines individuality with connectedness by matching with friends who don't live in the same place as me.

Matching with live-on-the-other-side of the continent friends is great. When visiting K. a while ago, we were shoe shopping and decided to buy the exact same pair of these tan coloured low heeled shoes because we don't live in the same place! In truth, I don't think I'd really mind that much going to the same party or restaurant or wherever wearing the same shoes as K. In fact, I think I'd be pretty proud of it. But it is nice to be the only person at the restaurant/party/wherever with the really cool shoes everyone compliments you on. (In fact now that I think of it, A. and I had very similar striped green and navy blues shirts our freshman year at Berkeley. One time I told him he had to wear that shirt the next day, and then I wore my version too. So I guess I do like matching in all its guises!) L. and I were in New York in December and she admired my pants. I told her which store I had bought them at (conveniently they have locations around the world), and the next day L. owned the exact same pair. Talk about teamwork! And matching! Another day in December I was at Bath & Body Works to buy some bubble bath when I came across these fuzzy, cozy pink socks. Before I knew it, I was leaving the store with some bubble bath, and 2 pairs of identical pink socks - one for me, and one for S. I was very excited to write in the card that accompanied S.'s socks that I had a pair too, and that we now matched!

So for me, matching with friends (especially far away friends) is lovely. Every time I wear the tan shoes I think of K., and the pink socks I think of S. I know I'd choose all my favourite people living in the same city over never getting to match with anyone again in my life; but since I know I can't have that, matching is a very good alternative.

Rivers to skate away on

I was in Ottawa last Friday, and finally got a chance to skate on the Rideau Canal, the world's longest skating rink. Unfortunately, timing issues and lack of skate rentals downtown conspired against us, meaning we didn't get on the ice until it was dark. And it just wasn't as good. The lighting was pretty bad, making it difficult to see - pretty necessary when skating on a bumpy, naturally frozen surface. I'm still glad I got the chance to skate on it though. And I'd like to think that if I lived in Ottawa I'd skate on it as often as possible. Apparently some students, depending on where they live in Ottawa, are able to skate to their university during the winter. How cool is that! As much as I love walking places, I think I'd be happy to skate places instead for 3 months of every year. The only problem would be where to put your skates once you reached your destination. Although I did see a fair share of people walking the streets of Ottawa (particularly those close to the Canal) with their skates slung over their shoulders. You could tell they were seasoned skaters...

Skating is definitely one of my favourite parts of winter; and while it probably is extra nice to do it outside, I like indoor rinks too. They all share this particular smell of artificial ice, excitement, and cheerfulness. Though most skating rinks (indoor and outdoor) share the same shape I don't get tired of it. I can go round and round and round, never feeling bored or dizzy. It is especially easy to not notice the same old pattern when skating with someone else. (My favourites being S. and L. and J. who did a phenomenal job when we skated with him at Rockfeller Center!)

So while I generally do prefer skating with others, I wish I felt better about skating alone. I have no problem swimming alone (in oceans or swimming pools) or walking alone when other people are in the pool or on the street. But I don't like skating alone in Toronto. I went to the local outdoor rink near my house one time last winter and I just felt awkward. Everyone else was there with their kids or their friends or someone, and even though I'm sure no one was staring at me or gave a second (or even a first) thought to the fact that I was there alone, I didn't like it. With swimming your face is in the water at least half the time, and with walking, you're going somewhere, but skating alone on a rink with other people is really unappealing to me. It's annoying too because neither S. nor L. nor J. live in Toronto. So I really have not been very good about going skating this winter, despite it being something I love.

I would be totally happy, however, to skate alone on a totally secluded rink with no one else around. I would love that actually. It's the other people and the zamboni guys and the ice monitors and all the other people that have every right to be on a public rink that get in the way of my dreams! A long standing fantasy of mine, which I hope to one day fulfill, is to spend a week at some secluded cabin somewhere in the French (or Swiss, or maybe even Italian or Austrian - I am not picky) Alps, a short walk away from a gorgeous and perpetually empty Alpine lake frozen into a skating rink. (Something like the picture below, except I'd be the only person on it.) Someone else (or multiple people) could be with me at the cabin but the lake/skating rink would be all mine. Every morning (and maybe again around twilight) I'd sling my skates over my shoulder and walk to the skating lake where I'd skate round and round, in perfect solitude with no one else around, to my heart's content.

In the meantime, I think I will try to get in some more skating before winter ends!

Breaking through the Clutter

Amazingly, I very recently finished organizing/decluttering/making sense of my bedroom. I say amazingly, because this project took the better part of five months. In August, back from my trip and ready for the fall to start, I decided to face the indisputable fact that my room was a jumble of objects/belongings/stuff from the 1980s/1990s/2000s. And since I was now going to be sleeping there on a regular basis and couldn't forget about the clutter until my next visit home, I needed to do something about it. I managed to make pretty good headway on about half of the room; I even partially cleaned out this little closet in my room - which I had not touched in years - that was full of old toys. I have to admit I felt pretty proud of myself.

I couldn't ignore, however, how my bookcases were in dire need of help. My tallest bookcase was literally sagging under all the weight and it was getting difficult for me to find anything. In awe of (but also inspired by) my friend N.'s perfectly organized and lovely bookcase - she even has a favourites shelf! so cool! - I knew I had my work cut out for me. The only problem was that the bookshelves my mom had bought in May were still sitting in the basement, in their boxes, so not put together... And in that state they remained for the entire fall until luckily, my uncle F. came to the rescue at Christmas, swooping in like Santa Claus and assembling all three one night (he stays up late) while I was sleeping. I woke up the next morning to discover 3 beautiful (but book-less) book shelves.

Then in the days between Christmas and New Years when the kind of internet sites I like to read (Huffington Post's Living section, Salon) were full of reflections and tips on and for 2009 & 2010, I came across a fabulous blog entry with 27 ways to keep order and declutter a house! One of the tips reminded readers to ask themselves, before storing away an item, if they really need to keep it at all. Since I couldn't even remember one single item I had put in that little toy closet in my room in August, I knew I needed to continue where I'd left off from the end of the summer, and this time do a much better job. Thus round two of my decluttering project began in the first days of 2010.

Just like anything, decluttering can feel extremely overwhelming when right in the middle of it. But then the end result usually makes it all worthwhile. I cleaned out the little closet (it's now the happy home of my suitcase) and I organized all my books (I now even have my very own favourite shelf, and the bookshelves in the basement are full and happy) and unlike the last time, I can legitimately feel proud of myself this time. But, I have a confession to make: I secretly like clutter. Yes of course my room is neater now, it's easier to find things, there's more space, but there's something about cluttered rooms that makes me smile. They are very lived in, and very full of life; and those are always good things.

Pacific Standard State of Mind

I am endlessly fascinated with time zones; so fascinated, in fact, that I get very excited every time I travel to a new one. There's something special about specific times of day repeating themselves over and over around the world. Ani Difranco has a line in one of her songs "How I miss this time zone" which just rings so true for me. I do miss other time zones I have lived in, and always feel a sense of comfort when I am back in them.

Like the Pacific Standard Time Zone for example - that time zone just encompasses everything I love about the west coast (the ocean, the vibe, the clear, fresh air, the landscape) and will forever have a special place in my heart. I was born and grew up in Eastern Standard, and I really do love it. However, as a teenager when I used to dream about moving out to the west coast I always thought about how when it was midnight in Toronto, it was only 9 pm in Vancouver or San Francisco. While my night was coming to an end, someone just like me's night - on the other side of the continent - would be starting.

Often I love both a place and its time zone, or a time zone and its places, and once that relationship starts I get really attached. When I first moved back to Toronto from Berkeley in July 2006 and then from Paris the following summer, it took me over a week both times to finally change the clock on my laptop to Toronto time. Every time I turned on my computer and saw the time, I felt bittersweet. Even though I was back in Toronto, my computer still hadn't said goodbye. Changing the time on my laptop seemed so final, like I had really and truly left Berkeley or Paris behind; and since in both cases I was either really sad (Berkeley) or in denial (Paris) to have/that I was gone, it was quite an important moment when I finally adjusted the time three hours forward or six hours back.

When I visited China in the summer of 2008, I couldn't wrap my head around the fact that it was 12 hours ahead of Toronto. While I was eating dinner around 8 pm, someone back home was eating breakfast. While I was sleeping peacefully at 3 am, someone was still working away. It gave a whole new meaning to the notion of Asia being on the other side of the world.

It is both interesting (lots of people to visit, cool stories and experiences to hear about) and at times hard (I miss all my far-flung friends so much!) to have people I care about living all over the world, in many different time zones. Sometimes it gets quite complicated too as I'm always trying to keep track of what time it in places across oceans and on the other sides of continents. But ultimately, it is so cool. I love how as I finish this post around 2 pm on a Thursday in Toronto, someone in Los Angeles is just starting to think about lunch, while someone in Paris is having a pre-dinner kir, and someone else in Beijing is fast asleep, and someone in Auckland is eating breakfast on Friday morning.

Making a List & Checking it Twice

One of my favourite things to do is to make lists. I just can't get enough of them. I make them in the little notebook I carry around in my purse, on scraps of paper or backs of used envelopes (usually the ones my credit card bills come in :) ) I leave in my bedroom and in my kitchen, and in my Gmail inbox where I have two permanently saved drafts (very originally) entitled "to do" and "to do # 2".

The best thing about lists is that they help me organize all my thoughts/goals/tasks/ideas. Just writing them down and seeing them in print makes all the items on my lists seem both possible and manageable. While 'to do' lists form the basis for most of my lists, I also like to delve into other areas. After my first school year in Austin was done in May 2008 I was faced with the certainty that I didn't want to continue there after the next year, but the uncertainty of what I did want to do. I remember spending a sunny and pleasant May morning making lists of careers I thought I would like, places I wanted to live, and countries I wanted to visit; and feeling much better about the future as I was doing so. I still have all the lists I made that day, and I occasionally still look at them, and still feel better.

When I was in Paris the summer of 2008 doing research for my masters I attended this conference called France Noir Black France. One of the presenters gave his paper on Josephine Baker and her rise to fame in Paris; included in his power point presentation were photographs of some of Baker's lists that he had come across when doing his research in her personal papers. I was fascinated!! It's really cool to see other people's lists because they show you what that person is thinking about, their plans, their ideas etc etc.

I approached this past fall which just ended with some trepidation - I was starting over (in a way), beginning a new job, trying to get settled and into a routine and I seemed to have all these things I wanted to do but no sooner would I resolve to do them, then they'd leave my head and I'd end up feeling discouraged and down. The solution to my problem came in the form of lists! I made a list of things I wanted to accomplish for the fall in general, and then since I felt so good after writing that, I opted to make a list of goals for October. That went so well, that I made one for November, and then December too. Now it's almost January 1, 2010 and for the first time in a long time I'm actually making New Year's resolutions, and I'm really excited about them - mostly, I think, because I just view them as a continuation (or maybe a slightly glorified and hyped up version) of my monthly goal lists. While I am going to make a list specifically for January, it feels good to also have some ideas in mind for the winter, and for 2010 as a whole. I also have a brand new little notebook whose pages are just waiting to be filled with lists.