Tuesday on the TTC to the TIFF in TO

Today was volunteer orientation for the Toronto International Film Festival. This necessitated the need for me to wear pants for the first time since I left my job in London. Good news was there was little if any struggle to button or zip said trousers. Good news indeed.

In order to get to my destination for the six o'clock start I was to hop the number 34 bus to the Eglinton Station; go south on the subway and get off at St. Andrew's Station and go to the south entrance of Roy Thomson Hall. This is my first test.

So I catch the bus right across the street from my home (condo) and sit down on the first available seat. Unfortunately for me that seat happended to be right next to a woman who clearly needed to catch up on her sleep or suffered from narcolepsy. Either way, she would consistently catch her nodding head from dropping down into my lap to which I was extremely grateful. I found the south side of Roy Thomson hall only by completely circling the building and discovering a lineup of other would be volunteers promptly waiting for the six o'clock start. During that meeting all volunteers were made to sign a contract whereby they were not to blog about the festival. There goes eleven days of me bragging about George Clooney looking my way or Mark Wahlberg and I working out at the gym. (yuh as if I go to the gym) They didn't say anything about making stuff up. (Why is it I continually end a sentence with a preposition?) Hey, if James Frey can make "A Million Little Pieces" believable surely turning down a drink with Javier Bardem or a moment with Johnny Depp can be bluffed.

The orientation ended and my first line of business was to find my way back home. I assumed if I went south on the subway to get there it would only stand to reason I go north to get home. Can someone explain to me how this is wrong? Hopped on the subway going north only to find I was one subway stop further from my home. Hopped off and went south once again to make my way to the station and hop on the bus to my home. I'm like a rabbit (not in the sense that they reproduce at will) hopping all over hells half acre. Fear not. I made it home safe and sound to spin my next tale of woe. Or should that be tail? TTYT.