I read my first blog about a year ago. I don't remember who or what it is was about, but it obviously didn't attract too much interest as I didn't read any other blogs (besides those professional ones) until February of this year. I was drawn in. I was curious to find out why people blogged. I bookmarked and added RSS feeds almost in desperation to not lose the ones I found most interesting, inspiring. The list grew. I had to create folders for them. I would get excited when I'd check and see one was in bold, with new posts. It was like opening the mailbox and finding a letter. I would get myself a drink (coffee, what did you think?) and settle in for a good read. I continued to read my favourite UK newspapers online. The sun would come up (I work nights, remember - that was in my first posting) and I'd still be at it. Reading and immersing myself in foreign news, other cultures, other lives.
So, today I have returned from Toronto dealing with family stuff and on the news, as I was heading towards the highway, it was announced that the TTC strike was over. Drivers had been legislated back to work and the buses would start rolling out by the evening. People had suddenly materialized on the street in breathless anticpation of being the first to get back on the bus. The Spadina bus. (Shuffle Demons reference) Apparently there was a sudden walkout on Friday night at midnight. The strike that was averted last Monday was back on with no notice. Hmm, it is true that I didn't see any buses on my way either yesterday or today, but most of my trip was on the highway. Perhaps I should pay more attention to local news. I should put the radio on instead of singing along to a Carrie Underwood CD. I should pay attention to my immediate surroundings. I shouldn't spend hours a day reading on the internet (oh yes, you should, says you who blogs). But then, I comment on someone's post and they reply. I got a comment on one of my posts, and an email response to one of my comments to another blog and I felt almost giddy with excitement, embarrassingly so. And that I had found new friends who don't know me or that I was connecting to them. It's a strange and wonderful feeling.
Anyway, I don't even live in Toronto, so I shouldn't really care about a strike I didn't even know about until it was over. But it did make me feel a little lost in my immediate world. And I am glad it is over. Traffic would be hell on Monday when I have to go back. I'd need to crank up "When He Cheats" even louder to get out my frustration.