I’ve been back in Canada for about five hours now and it is really weird. I’m like, deeply, deeply sad about leaving London even though I know the way I was living there wasn’t sustainable (job without an obvious direction for me, sharing an apartment with another couple, eating crap food because I couldn’t afford vegetables, drinking a lot, not saving any money, also I would get deported in a few months anyway) but I loved living there and I loved my friends there and I loved the cemetery across the street from my apartment and the lunch market and the coffee cart (I followed Lee when he moved from the street market to the park) and Brick Lane Bagels and real ale and grey skies and summer afternoons drinking cider in the park and fry-ups and the fragments of the Roman Wall you still see walking through the Barbican and the learning curve of a rambling Medieval streetscape full of modern buildings and bad pubs and good pubs and living somewhere without a national inferiority complex about its culture.
Everyone’s accent sounds weird now - I swear I never heard the Canadian accent as different from the American until I spent a lot of time outside Canada and now everyone that I don’t already know (and am used to their voice) sounds like a sitcom parody - it’s unnerving. I love Toronto and I’m excited to be back and to make a life here though, for real.
Sorry for the personal rambling, this is not usually my tumblr style, but I’m so tired, and moving’s made me sentimental. I was holding back tears on the tube on Monday, all like “I’m going to miss the tube so much” even though I mostly only took the tube as a last resort because it’s crowded and overpriced. Also I’m really tired because it’s like 1 AM in London and I’ve been up since 6 and I drank a lot on the plane (first time in business class and you’re there for 8 hours and they’re like “wine? port? Irish coffee with whipped cream and a sugared rim?” and you’re like “wow, the rich really do live in a different world.”) and anyway it’s just been a big day for me.