The day after Christmas

Today I got up bright and early and headed to.... TORONTO!
I went to Toronto to see.... WILSON! YAAAAAAAAY!

Originally we had planned to go to the Bata Shoe Museum but we discovered it was closed for the day despite no indication of closure on the website when we checked a week prior. SO! That was a drag. But we quickly recovered from this disappointment and went to the Royal Ontario Museum, which Wilson had never before visited.

We saw a neat exhibit of the last hundred years of Italian interior design, which was really neat. There were a lot of cool chairs and old typewriters, and they even had an original Vespa and a Fiat from the 1940s. There was a big inflateable red cloth chair made in the 60s that had two big globes at the top that looked like boobs. Turns out it was intentional, as the piece of furniture was called the Mamma chair, and was meant to simulate sitting in one's mother's lap, I suppose. Only the Italians... Such devotion!

After that we explored the European armour and weaponry section, and then the Reptiles and Birds section, and the Bat Cave. We also stumbled upon a children's "discovery" section and we got to touch real Canadian animal fur!

We then went to the China and Japan section, and after leaving the museum, went to an Asian restaurant for some Pho' and Hot and Sour soup. Delicious!

We still had a great deal of day to work with, so we walked down Yonge street for a bit.... and somehow found ourselves in the fiery pits of HELL!

Boxing day + consumers = Mayhem!

Only on this day does the true spirit of Christmas come out. Everyone pretends Christmas is about love and family. Sure, it's all about that until 9am, December 26th, when the stores bust open and people come in droves, even lining up outside, waiting for their chance to find all those perfect gifts for themselves. I want to buy Buy BUY!

It was nauseating. Seriously, I had to take a Gravol.

But, who am I to criticise? I consumed more than my fair share this Christmas season, as is the tradition in the Western world.

Anyway, enough guilt-tripping and finger-pointing.

Wilson and I fled the consumer turmoil and headed down Queen Street West, towards his home. Once there, we settled on watching a movie.

FINALLY I HAVE SEEN DONNIE DARKO, and have now undertaken the quest of meeting Jake Gyllenhaal, convincing him I am the girl of his dreams, and having an enchanting and passionate love affair with him, as girls who watch this movie are inevitably wont to undertake. *SPOILER COMING UP, for those of you who still have not seen it* Oh to have been Jena Malone in that film... you know, in the parts where she's not getting run over by a car or tossed about or harassed....in other words the parts where she's kissing it up with Mr. Gyllenhaal. Ye-heea!
Jeez, and I still haven't seen Brokeback Mountain! I don't care if he kisses another boy! That other boy is Heath Ledger! It's GOTTA be good!

After the movie, Wilson showed me his shoe collection. He has a lot of shoes. Colourful and expensive and, in some cases, very rare shoes. Will he wear them? Of course not! I equate his shoe obsession with any other sort of collecting hobby, despite the evident purpose of having shoes being that one would wear them. I suppose it can be no different than collecting model cars, or war memorabilia, or rare articles of vintage clothing, or those porcelain figurines of young women in big flowy dresses.

Don't worry Wilson, we'll get to see that Shoe Museum someday...