So, okay, am I totally buggin’ or something? While I realise that time forever passes, blah, blah, yeah, yeah. Having said that, has anyone else noticed that we’re halfway through May and that means a) I am a billion and b) this year is a month and a half shy of being 50% over.
Perhaps as we age the wiring of our brain changes, on a fundamental level. I know I am not alone when I recall summer vacation feeling like a lifetime, and the dreaded school year felt like a decade. This is where the rewiring theory comes into play. Maybe we’re paying for, what I think of as, the stolen time of youth by losing time as days pass by, like trains leaving Shinjuku station. Right. On. Time.
Consumed by constant worry over my future (as always,) and flurry for events and happenings in 2017: completing my MA, the loss of Pheebs and Phyllo, my mother’s visit to Tokyo, graduation, ageing, the Beacs, the loss of Wilma, the list feels like an endless scroll. I suppose all of these little things add up to the sum of life. A little depressing. Sorry ’bout it.
I received some very upsetting news during this week. The Beaconsfield, the bar where I basically spent my 20s, was closing. It was all so sudden that I didn’t know what the hell was happening. I found out that the building had sold and the staff, all of whom are my friends, were informed on Wednesday that Thursday night would be the last night that Beacs would be open. Not only are the staff members my friends, but the manager, Dahna, is one of the three people in the world I refer to as a 「best friend.」Although some would argue that you can only have one single best friend, I have lived so many lives in my time that I qualify to have more than one, but I’ve gotten sidetracked.
Dahna is not only the manager of the Beacs, she and her husband also live above the bar. Throughout our entire twelve years of friendship she has lived in one of the two apartments above the bar. Some of my fondest memories and most incredible times were spent in that building, whether in the bar itself or in one of those apartments. I live very far away, but it makes it even less real. In my head I am trying to imagine a Toronto without Beacs and it just doesn’t seem to compute. It’s home. I learned to pour drinks there, how to do cash-out as fast as possible, and how to balance being crazy busy while still socialising and being all around good to customers (every so often I was enlisted to cover shifts or help out.)
Most importantly, though, it was the place where I created and fostered some of the most important relationships in my life, that are lasting through the test of distance and extremely different timezones. There was, and always will be, something magical about The Beaconsfield and it is a great loss for the city of Toronto. I am devastated that I was not at the final night. It just doesn’t seem right.
The massive changes of West Queen West since I began working at 69 Vintage at 22 (I think…?) are shocking. Last time I visited Toronto it looked like a different neighbourhood. Change is inevitable but this is some bullshit.
The best comparison I can make to the Beacs is the Cheers from the the eponymous program. Farewell, Beaconsfield. You truly changed my life and I will forever be thankful.
The Queen addresses her troops one last time. Photo via Matt
Post graduation life is pretty surreal. I am still having unfinished assignment dreams, but I have been having those since my days at ryerson, so this isn’t new. Just a nice new way for anxiety to manifest itself. I’m also in the grips of stress about the next step. Like, I have ideas of what I want to do, and where I want to do it but does that mean they’re going to happen? Since the finishing school thing has had time to digest now all those pesky and then what happened…? thoughts are inevitably bubbling up. That being said, I did spend an hour and a bit filling out paperwork for my change of status, last night. After two years of not having to deal with status of residence forms I almost (almost) forgot just how long they are. My obsessive mind doesn’t help (pencil, pen, erase.)
okay, rant: over. Onward upward and shit is looking good. I have great options and I’m feeling excited about the next step in my life. Going back to school was the right thing to do, but I’ll tell you something for nothing: being a student really isn’t that profitable and I have shoes to buy. Do the math.
I’ve come to realise that my tenure at Bunka has really tapped me into my introverted side. I find myself staying home and revelling in time spent alone. I need to push past that though. Nothing gets done if you don’t make it happen. Spending time alone in my, newly organised and tided apartment, is really doing me no favours. So like, time to go be around people and see… the sun…?
After a tumultuous 2 years of working like a madman, my graduation has settled in. I beat the odds, which seemed to be stacked against me (not gonna point fingers toward the stackers.) I have am still so busy, with the next step, but today I’m feeling reflective and stuff.
I will forever regret choosing money over a garment. yes, it was too much, but I know
I would still be wearing the shit out of this shirt. someday, somehow, perhaps it could be mine…
I am legit shaking in my pumps. I hate this kind of stuff.
while I understand that it’s very important to make my new presentation keynote for the impending presentations on Monday, I really want to do other things! I know that is the opposite of what I should be doing, but I have really begun to enjoy teaching myself how to use Adobe XD and InDesign. After Monday, after Monday, after Monday.