Critical Mass

Wow, this city gets more interesting by the minute!

I finally had a chance to end my week in style - the company of good friends, a beautiful evening avec sunshine (thanks, Mother Nature... no hard feelings, right?), a spacious patio, and margaritas in glasses that resembled fishbowls.

I was in heaven.

After a couple of hours and a few ounces, Kabs and I decided to head on down to Dundas Square to check out the Caribana eve happenings. We could tell that activities were abuzz, as people leisurely strolled around Toronto's downtown core... many with confused looks on their faces. They clearly weren't from this part of town.

As we crossed Bay Street, we came across a swarm of cyclists, headed south during rush-hour traffic. It seemed like a large group at first, but as they stopped and collected at a red light, we noticed the masses, capped off with a row of police officers on their bikes.

Curiosity getting the best of me, I asked one cyclist what was going on.

"Oh, it's Critical Mass!" she said, nonchalantly.

This one was going to be tricky.

"Not sure what that is," I replied. "Is it a biking group?"

"Nope. We gather at Spadina and Bloor on the last Friday of every month and cycle around the city," she said. "It's for anyone."

"Oh that sounds like fun!" I replied.

The lady gave me a half smile that I didn't think too much of at the time, and rode off as the light changed.

When I got home, I Googled.

And what do you know? Critical Mass is actually a form of protest, showcasing how unfriendly the city is when it comes to cyclists.

It does take place on the last Friday of every month, as she mentioned... but it happens in about 300 cities across the world.

It baffled me. I've lived in this city for half my life and have NEVER encountered Critical Mass before.

It excited me on one hand... but on another, it broke my heart.

Do I really not know Toronto as well as I'd like to?

xo
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Photo courtesy of TorontoCranks

PDA, NOT of the affectionate kind!

I never wanted to use this blog for the purposes of which you will soon read about. I wanted to spare you, my readers, from rants and raves bordering on lunacy and hate. But after an experience I had today, I can't help but want to share and warn all of you (especially my fellow Torontonians).

Last August I bought my lovely mother a gift card to a spa in downtown Toronto. I chose that particular one based on reviews, referrals and finally, location. It was her birthday gift, and I wanted her to be able to access the spa at will.

So I chose the Pantages Spa on Victoria street, purchasing a couple of highly priced items for her to indulge in. She used one of the treats as soon as she could, opting to use the other at a later date.

Which brings us to about a week ago.

She mentioned wanting to use up the gift card before it expired next month, and asked that I book an appointment for her. I spent the next hour trying to call the spa, where, to my confusion, it kept going to voicemail. I thought nothing of it, left message on the 10th try, and went back to my daily routine.

Having not heard back from them in a couple of days, I decided to call the Pantages Hotel today to find out what was going on. The nice lady at the reception desk transferred me to the spa, where someone answered after three rings.

I told her about the fact that I'd been having trouble getting a hold of them, and asked to book an appointment for this Sunday.

The first question she asked me was if my gift card was from the wellness spa or the hotel spa.

I said I didn't know there was a difference.

She then asked when I'd purchased my gift card.

I said last August.

She then proceeded to outline the fact that they were a NEW spa, replacing the OLD Pantages Spa that was run independently in the hotel. The NEW spa was a part of the hotel, and did not honour the gift cards from the OLD spa.

Excuse me?

She went on to say that the old Pantages Spa would be opening at a new location -- in Vaughan, of all places -- but not until the end of September. My gift card would be well expired at this point.

"You've got to be kidding!" I thought.

I understand that the recession hit everyone hard, but the Pantages Spa didn't have the decency to CALL their customers with outstanding balances on their gift cards before shutting down? At least tell us what our options were? I asked for their number or contact, and she said the only one they had was the old number where I'd left a message.

How convenient. I'd love to know how many confused messages lay sitting in that voicemail, which I'm sure NO ONE will ever answer.

I'm so frustrated in all of this. I booked it down to the hotel after work to see what was going on, and to no surprise, the old spa has been replaced, now up and running with new smiling faces inciting people into their wellness centre.

Yea right.

So I asked the lady what my options are.

The voice on the other end of the line sweetly replied, "Honey, you're screwed."

Yea, screwed out of a good sum of money. You people know how costly these spa treatments are!

PDA = PRETTY DAMN ANNOYED, in my book!

I'd give you all a link to their site, but the last thing I want to do is get them more attention, even in the manner of page hits.

I have a right to be mad.

xo
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Margarita trumps fork in the road

This summer has been chaotic, to say the least. I don't know how I've made it to the end of July without stopping in the middle of the street, looking up to the skies and yelling, "OK! I've had enough, you can stop torturing me now!"

Ok, maybe that would be slightly dramatic. But you get the idea.

My friend said it best today: "You're a goddamn yo-yo!"

I'm a yo-yo, yes I know.

So, in order to deal with this yo-yo-ness, I've had to implement emergency coping strategies to help me get through the rest of the week. I assure you, next week will result in a new list.

But for now:

1. A self-imposed margarita haze
It will knock off an hour or two of thinking time, while making things seem a bit more pleasant and less chaotic. (Note: temporary, yet delicious solution).

2. Start making phone calls
Talking kills time. Listening to the stories of others kills time. Calling friends and family and begging them to talk to me about their week will certainly have me focusing on something other than my stupid fork in the road. (Note: don't make phone calls or answer phone calls during margarita haze. Doing so might result in bigger problems than a stupid fork in the road).

3. Spend more time in the limited sunshine
Seriously, what's with this weather? In case you didn't get the memo, Mother Nature - it's summer! We spend at least six months of the year sans vitamin D, so this is a health issue. We need to stock up, so get on it. Sunshine will also lift spirits and make me want to burst into song. (Note: Hopefully not during margarita haze... or maybe...).

4. Shopping Therapy
Reasoning: will help stimulate economy. I'm doing this for the benefit of all North Americans. This isn't a selfish thing... I'm being thoughtful. Shop for all possible post-first week of August outcomes.

Repeat if necessary.

Thoughts?

xo
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Note: This post may or may not have been written in a margarita haze.

Walk for Thought

The Summer issue of Zoomer magazine had an article by Cecily Ross, where she reflected on how she always ends up walking when dealing with a case of writer's block. She said that some of the clearest ideas and verbal images come to her as she briskly walks the landscape surrounding her house in the burbs.

I couldn't agree more. I wonder if it's a trait that a lot of writers share.

For my fellow Torontonians, imagine this:
I walked from Queen and River to the Eaton Centre yesterday. Then, after a dinner with V, we walked all the way to Dufferin and King.

My feet chastised me for it today, but yesterday it was exactly what I needed.

I had some of the clearest thoughts in days during that walk. Mum says it's something that might run in the family. It turns out my brother walked the Yonge/Bloor line last year during the usual Toronto Transit strike. And now that I think about it, he had a lot of thoughts at that time too.

In fact, with all the thinking going on, I never realized how much I was moving.

It all makes sense though. Think of the number of times people have advised you to go for a walk to clear your head when you're upset.

I read another article that says London, England is one of the best cities in the world for those of us who like to travel by foot. No wonder some of Jane Austens best dialogues between her characters happened as they walked the English countryside.

Classic and timeless!

xo
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