(scroll down for outfit post)
A long time ago, at a point in life that seems very far away from my here and now, I lived in this city. The city I’m currently visiting for research, a city I’ve come to know better than I ever thought I would want to know it.
The last time I lived here, I’d just returned from 18 months of travel, before which I’d completed an Arts degree and discovered that I was not cut out for the insurance business. I had no clue what I wanted to do with my life, so I waitressed and tried to figure things out. I made OK money, shared an apartment with a college student I barely knew, and somehow managed to begin dating a person who listened to me and appreciated my awkward goofiness in ways that made me feel great. Life was OK; people were a little condescending about my job, and I was a little lost, but it seemed like I was on the verge of finding some direction.
Then two things happened to speed the process along: business slowed down (and my income became way too low), and my roommate was roofied and raped by two men in our apartment while I lay in the next room thinking she was having uncharacteristically loud sex with her boyfriend and wishing I could get back to sleep. Afterward, my poor roommate couldn’t remember the actual rape, but had plenty of trauma nonetheless. She went into counselling and immersed herself in her schoolwork. As far as I know, police never caught her rapists. I wish them (the cowardly rapists) ill.
Since I’d heard it, I was the only “witness” to her rape, a fact that was both alarming and devastating for both of us. To make matters worse, neither of us could afford either to change the locks or to move out. Suddenly, Toronto was a hellhole from which I had to escape.
I continued to date the person who is now the A-Dubs-Hubs. He was almost done medical school and was interviewing for medical residencies at centres across the country. His acceptance into a program in eastern Canada became reason enough for me to leave my desolate Toronto life and follow him to his new city. He told me I was a grad student “waiting to happen.” Fortunately, he was right. Even more fortunately, the student loans people agreed and made my move possible.
And now, I’m back in Toronto. The past eight-day stretch is the longest I’ve spent on my own in this city since that bleak time. The first few days here included excellent times with E-Jo and Rinty the Crusher, and they were thoroughly awesome. Since the exits of E-Jo and Rinty, however, I’ve enjoyed the multiple neighbourhoods, the excellent restaurants and shopping, and the exciting research I’m undertaking. But it’s all increasingly haunted (or tainted?) by the fear and terrible loneliness of my previous life here. Fortunately, I leave tomorrow. Even more fortunately, here endeth the melancholia.
This skirt – worn last week – may not make it to campus, again. I may need to acknowledge that jean skirts are inappropriate even for casual, in-office, non-student-meeting days.
Chapter One black t-shirt: new to blog, via Winners
Green bead necklace: new to blog, purchased during visit with Rinty the Crusher this past April
Azzure acid wash denim skirt: remixed
Shoe Heaven shoes: remixed
Here’s a closer view of the accessories – plus the drab brown cardigan the el-crappo weather dictated that I wear:
Smart Set cardigan: remixed
Bead and wood cuff: new to blog, local artist who sells things at local bookshop (where I also bought books, of course – because I am an academic, so it is the law)
When, if ever, can jean skirts work for work?