Something in the translation

It's funny. I never realized how many people could mispronounce Kari's name until I got to Canada and talked to people who'd been reading our, now incestuous, blogs.

It was an interesting afternoon in Toronto. I spent most of it on Queen Street West, shopping. I didn't buy anything for me, but a bunch for M. Still hunting the much coveted pluko hair goop, but I will find it, oh yes I will. There were some things I would have bought if I'd had the energy to make it back to Bloor St. but all I could think about was curling up on Mike's couch and watching an episode of Buffy. From the Buffy season 2 DVD that Mike so sweetly gave to me just after I walked in his front door. My friends so rock. He then bought me sushi. I think I almost relaxed.

I don't think I like Toronto. It's bigger than Prague, but not as beautiful. Or maybe its that I can understand all the conversations around me and can hear how inane they are. Living in Prague is good for me because I'm basically oblivious to the stupidity of other people. I rarely feel that twinge of disappointment when people open their mouths, because I can't understand them anyway. I've realized on this trip that living in Prague gives me a kind of extension of my youth. Mike said to me that the attitude is like the one you'd have during summer at school. Which may be why it's so pleasant. People in Canada have mortgages, spouses, babies and oppressive liquor laws (not like I'm a big drinker, but it's totally ridiculous). It just doesn't compare.

Why is it that I idealize the place that I'm not?

HRH