Kitchener to Kingston June 19, 2016

Today I write to you from Kingston Ontario! Specifically from my father and stepmother's living room, filled with elegant overstuffed furniture, paintings, pictures and embroidered pillows, in the corner house in a suburb near John A. MacDonald Blvd and Princess St.

Tomorrow Dad and I are driving to Lyndhurst Ontario to stay at a rental cottage on the lake. Lyndurst seems like a very small town from my Google Maps observations and is famous for having the oldest extant bridge in Ontario.

Last night, I dreamed about bed bugs. I don't think I've ever had a dream about bed bugs before, and I sincerely hoped it was not a premonition. I decided to take it as an advisement from my subconscious and be sure to keep my suitcase elevated and closed. At least I think that is what you are supposed to do. Must research that.

It was an anxious start (as these things can be for an agoraphobic). You start the day and the biggest question in your mind is why? Why the h-e-double hockey sticks am I doing this? You remember the day before, the week before, the month before, all those moments where you were like, this is going to be good/fun/possible/instructive/tolerable ... but in the morning, you forget. You can barely drink your smoothie and you skip your vitamins altogether (mainly because they are already in your suitcase). In fact travel days are great for weight loss. I think all I have eaten since breakfast is a bun, five crackers, a table spoon of humus, and a banana.

S picked me up and took me to the station, reassuring me with positive slogans, which was most helpful. I became anxious that we would miss the train. I could feel my anxiety escalating.

The train was delayed. This was also good because it gave me some time to calm down, although I would use that term relatively. Calm down to a level of functional non-running and non-screaming.

Everyone around me looked peaceful. It was a beautiful morning. A guy and his little son were both wearing train conductor hats. A woman was wearing shorts that were so short they were more effectively underwear, and she seemed fine with that. A white guy asked his Spanish travel mates if they understood the French coming over the loudspeaker since “Spanish and French share a few words”. Girls with reflector aviator shades and pink luggage looked bored.

I flitted among these people nervously, trying to calm myself with my internal professional voice; "this is just another day of my life to get something done". I also worked on convincing myself that these people were my new family and the train was my new home and I would live forever with them on the train and if I got sick or scared, they would love me and help me always.

Eventually, even though the thoughts in my head were saying this was going to be the worst day of my life and providing some very vivid imagery to back that up, I just decided I was getting on that train and let the chips fall where they may! This was calming. Sometimes decisions are very stressful.

It helped to tell myself that this was my life, going in this direction, on this train, and not backwards.

Finally the train 84 (Kitchener, Guelph, Georgetown, Brampton, Union Station) arrived and I boarded. I didn't look out the window much at first – just once, right before Breslau, and I saw what looked like a very large dog – very large!– running down the middle of an industrial  side road. Strange. And then we were past.

I focused on arranging myself stuff and setting up my computer.

Last time I took this trip I had my WTF moment in Guelph, which was next up. Happily, I had already had it in the car on the way to the station/at the station, and now Guelph was like an old combat buddy I was having an emotionally controlled reunion with.

My time on train 84 passed more quickly than I expected. It helped to have to spend a huge amount of time figuring out how to access the Wifi. Once that was done, I caught up on some computer administrative tasks. This is where my brain really turned the corner. For like 20 minutes, it felt like I was at my desk at work, and that was enough to create a safe mental space to return to when my mind started to flicker with anxiety. I know this is a wierd metaphor, but it was sort of like the cloth you might put under a plant to absorb the excess water but also keep the water to nourish the plant. I wish I could explain that metaphor, but I can't quite.

At Georgetown, I hid in the bathroom. My ex lives there. I'm sure he had nothing better to do that day than stand on the station platform staring at train cars making me feel even more anxious! Funny how an entire town can become a person.

We arrived at Union Station almost before I realized it. The CN Tower gave me the thrill it usually does, as it rose suddenly above me amidst all the new buildings going up. It's like seeing a Mountie or watching a Blue Rodeo video; the rare experience of Canadian patriotism (in all of US command!), reserved mostly Canada Day and Heritage Moments commercials.

Toronto: I always have to, and I like to, remind myself that people live there – that it isn't just some amazing larger than life installation art project.

The transfer from train 84 to 64 was pretty straightforward. It was made more pleasant by some chitchat talk with two small Latina women, and less pleasant by an arty looking middle aged guy who seemed completely oblivious to me trying to get by to my train, while he endlessly hugged two Asian teenagers, one of whom was holding a massive cake.

Train 64 – I always forget how swank it feels, with the arm rests that go up and that spacious foot area.

Every person getting on car 3 of train 64 was under 30 and hot. Statistically I am not even sure how that is possible. I don't think in any one place in Waterloo have I ever seen such a totality of hotness. (Incidentally most of them later got off at Belleville. I wracked my brain - which was less anxious by that point, somewhat, and thus had some bandwith for idle speculation – what all these hot people were DOING in Belleville. In my mind Belleville is composed solely and totally of senior citizens, and, once a year or so, my uncle, who absolutely loves the Quinte Mall).

Then, I discovered, even more improbably, that the train staff were also really hot. The ticket guy had a face like a young and fine-boned Peter Sarsgaard. He looked at every passenger as if he was in delightful anticipation of making joyous love to them. He was positively aquiver with beauty and ticket-taking.

As we pulled out of Toronto I saw another dog running wild in a large park.

Then of course the water ... how wonderful.

By this time I'd figured out how to access Via's Wifi and was into Dragon's Den. Dragon's Den is like the Tylenol of TV – seemingly always available, consistent and so soothing.

To be honest, the trip passed much more quickly than I expected. Maybe it's because it is the second time this year I have done this. Or maybe the side-effect of aging – time moving more quickly – is in favour of the travelling agoraphobic.

I arrived at Kingston Station and my step mother was waiting for me in the car. At first I didn't see the car and had the mildest of freak outs, for like a milisecond, but then I felt I would be ok, even if I had to cab to the house. But there she was, in the sunshine, just like last fall.

And now I have to go order some Swiss Chalet, and watch copious amounts of library DVDS.