"Z, You've Tried on Leather Jackets There Before"- September 17th in Toronto

A Mural in Kensington Market.

After a camera flash goes off, waking me up, I sit up, glance over at Melkamu and Kristin sitting on the other couch and Kristin and I decide that regardless of what plans the family has today, we will be going to Kensington and downtown Toronto. I’m also craving Greek food, so I decide that we have to go to the Danforth and find a restaurant to eat at. First, we have to have our required breakfast at Auntie Suffi’s, make plans with everyone, and wait for everyone to get ready… which takes awhile. I’m not complaining, it’s just something that happens when a lot of people are involved. It happens allllllllllllllllllll the time in my family. Breakfast preparations haven’t even begun, and Kristin and I still haven’t heard from Z, so we decide that we can quickly drive over to his aunt’s house to find him before we have breakfast at Auntie Suffi’s. So, we scuttle downstairs, hop into the car and head to the address he gave us.

Arriving in front of a two-story apartment, we knock on the door.

“No freakin’ way!” Z greets us, smiling, hugging each of us in turn. “Come in.”

He goes upstairs and his aunt wants to feed us something. God I love people who feed me good food. We go upstairs and Z brings out a couple of plates of desserts and some chai. It’s all beyond music. Since Z isn’t quite ready to leave at this point, Kristin and I have decided that we should head back to the boys since our 10-minute escapade has turned into a 45- minute one. After our next breakfast, we’ll return, pick up Z and head out to Kensington.

We return for meal two, eat some eggs and toast, and kidnap the car for the day. Kristin and I pick up Z and drive onto the Danforth in search of a restaurant. Only problem is that there are soooo many options. We park in what looks like the middle of Greektown, see a fountain, and decide that it’s time to restage our Christian Rock band fountain photo.

2007 Christian Rock Band photo.

2010 Christian Rock Band photo.

It is unsuccessful. I blame this on Mike not being here to take the picture.

We step into a little store and Kristin finds some pants that Z and I decide makes her butt look lovely. Though, I think the pants she is wearing today, which are mine via my sister also look really nice on her. This is one thing I miss about not living with Kristin… sharing clothes and having an expanded wardrobe. The woman inside recommends that we eat at this upscale-restaurant-whose-name-I-can't-remember, or Pantheon. 

As we head to the restaurants, I see a store with a rhino sign.

Rhino sign!!!

I have to take a picture and go inside. They have these awesome bracelets made out of old water pipes. I think this is an awesomely innovative idea, something I need to add to my list of recyclable folk art that I need to research further.

After that brief tangent into a store, we end up at the recommended Pantheon and request to sit outside.  Mr. Grumplestilskin, our unpleasant waiter leads us outside and throws three menus onto a table. He is clearly not happy to be serving us. The next time he comes out we order three desserts: ice cream, honey cake, and baklava. All three are tasty but the service is not idyllic. Z jokingly blames it on Kristin wearing a hijab. Sometimes, you just have to make fun of stereotypes.

Kristin and Z having an intense conversation at Pantheon.

Now, it’s time to get ourselves  to Kensington. We drive down Gerard jamming out to music as we go, deciding that if we die now, at least we will die happy. Then, as per usual, the three of us start in on the subject of death and determine that it would be incredibly amusing if we wrote for obituaries a la Siskel and Ebert style and rated them with “two thumbs up” or other such ratings. Well, if we died car dancing in Toronto, smiles on our faces, and footage was captured, this would indeed by a two thumbs up death.

Z, feeling the music.

Kristin, doing the dance drive.

The road ahead, approaching Yonge & Dundas. 

Eventually we reach Kensington, Kensington with its hippy vibe, place where Mike, Kristin, Z, and I spend hours in 2007 singing karaoke outside a store. You know… “Kiss of a Rose”, “9 to 5”… classics.  Kristin made me promise the day before that if she sees a skirt she likes, I must force her to buy it so she doesn’t regret not doing so like she did three years ago. We go into store after store trying on clothes, browsing around, comparing prices. 

 Z in the sexy shirt with the neck up... looking evil.

Me helping Z fix the shirt collar. 

At one point, we go into a store and start dancing. The owner is outside on the stoop reading a book, then she walks in.

 Z busting a move.

Kristin dancing in the store.

“Uh… we’re just enjoying your music” we tell her before heading out. She just laughs. Z pauses to look at a red and bluish evening gown.

“This looks like something Snow White would wear, doesn’t it?”

Again, the owner laughs. “Maybe for a night on the town.”

Oh Z. I love your random comments.

In the end, Z and I end up buying these ridiculously comfy shirts. His has an octopus on it. One of mine has an elephant, and my hoodie has Buddha. They’re beautiful, huggable, and hella comfy. Now Z and I have matching shirts. Yipee! As we’re buying them, Kristin comes in and says we need to come with her right away to the store where she has found a skirt. Apparently there is a man inside who is declaring that the reason racism exists is because of aliens. We don’t make it on time, but Kristin buys a beautiful green hippy wrap skirt that she loves, and I love. It’s perfect for her.

Evening is approaching so we take Z up to Bloor St. so he can catch a ride with his cousin to go to Jama’at Khana. Kristin and I, on the other hand, plan on meeting up with Mike and going to dinner. We head to the bus station, grab a snack, and stroll back and forth, arm-in-arm, checking each bus for our beloved Mike.

A sign pointing us in the direction of the taxis... and oh how official it looks. 

“If Mike is on the bus, and he sees us, he’ll wave frantically” Kristin assuredly tells me.

“You’re right, he will.”

Sure enough, after a few more busses pass through, I stare at someone who might be Mike before glancing someone waving out of the corner of my eye. Behold, Mike has arrived. He gets off the bus, and the joy of seeing each other after months, escapes all of us. 

 The Kristin & Mike hug. 

The Mike & Camila hug. 

As we walk towards the hostel he is staying at, he tells us about his awesome new backpack. 

Mike telling us about his backpack. 

It is indeed quite awesome and perfect for a backpacker, which is something he wants to start doing. This is just the trial run. After checking into the Canadiana Backpackers Inn, a hostel I’ll be staying at with Mike the following night, we head to King St. and end up at Hey Lucy where Mike and I split some wine and Kristin and I split some nachos and talk about life, things we’re hoping to accomplish- the general catch-up session if you will.

 Me and Mike on the Hey Lucy patio. 

Kristin sipping water at Hey Lucy. 

After paying our bill, Mike walks us part of the way to our parked car. Us girls split ways with Mike, ready to hit the hay since we’re going to have to rise and shine with the sun to begin our TIFFing (our movie watching endeavors).  

The place we parted ways for the day.