On a recent trip to Canada, my parents and I stopped in Toronto. As a big city girl already, it felt like I was back in sweet home Chicago. With a limited timeframe to spend exploring – basically 12 hours – we squeezed in the important stuff: good food with a splash of sightseeing!
When I was in NYC last month, I discovered Maman and fell in love. They know how to do pastries and decorating right.
As a non-religious, but spiritual [insert yogi-minded] person, the idea of fate is a tricky one. I know that there is no god up in the air manipulating my marionette strings to do and say certain things. I don’t believe that my life’s plan was already written before I was born. But, this idea of fate – yes the idea of fate, not the pre-determined by god, supernatural definition of fate – has always been very striking to me.
I truly believe that things happen for a reason. Not because they were “destined to” or because someone wrote it in the “book of Ashley”, but because life is mysterious. Life works its way so that when one event happens it changes the course of future events. Or maybe because an event happened, you’ve learned this grand (or small) life lesson that’ll inform how you lead the rest of your life.
When I was in Toronto recently a guy I knew in college posted online that he was also visiting Toronto. I wrote, “I’m here, too! Enjoy!” Immediately, he messaged me: let’s meet up! I was with my parents and figured that leaving the house at 10pm to meet up with a bachelor party wasn’t the best idea. He lives in Chicago, though, so I suggested we meet up when we both returned stateside. We made plans for the following week, and continued to talk throughout the whole weekend.
I woke up on a recent Friday morning inexplicably happy. A smile was permanently on my face from the time the alarm buzzed to the time I got home. I was terribly nice to every person who called me at work. I ended every email with a: Have a great weekend!
It’s hard to believe that this happiest of happy days was only 1 week after the boy-of-nearly-7-months and I had broken up. I was, in fact, happy that the relationship was over. The boy-of-nearly-7-months and I weren’t perfect matches. We tried fitting ourselves together like two mismatched puzzle pieces for the last 5 months of the relationship and it consistently ended up with a lopsided puzzle. I miss my partner in crime, but I don’t really miss the boy-of-nearly-7-months (though I do miss his dog a whole lot).
New City Life Adventure 