The problem with renting a furnished apartment is that you’re stuck with somebody else’s unspeakably bad decor judgement. In fact, due to an extraordinarily-detailed clause in my rental agreement, I’m legally bound to suffer the heinous curtains, the Inquisition-inspired bent [Read More]
So you see, it’s the little things that really matter. After a longer and more harrowing adventure in house-hunting than I’d hoped, I moved into my new home last night. It’s perfect and I feel very, very lucky. I’m three [Read More]
Yeah, so that idea that a person can just “absorb” a new language? Bollocks. As though language immersion is literal, like I’d be out to make photocopies and suddenly find myself saturated, thus fluent in Spanish: ¿Puedo obtener 20 páginas [Read More]
The Mexican sun. From the dreary perspective of Toronto’s dwindling daylight, “the Mexican sun” brings to mind eventful beach days, mollifying cervezas, and endless naps. Of course, I’ve never been to Mexico at this time of year. In September, the Mexican [Read More]
