It took me a week to get comfortable with the idea, but last night I think I told some Torontonians I'd actually move to Toronto for work.

Unfortunately, as of 2:24am, July 27, I am no longer particularly interested.

Walking Landsdowne Ave. just minutes ago, I was pointlessly hit in the face by two passing male rollerbladers. My mouth tastes like blood and sulfur. My upper lip isn't quite split. My right eye is swelling; tomorrow will tell if I'll be able to see out of it. I hadn't said or done anything, but these two fellows, one after another, saw fit to hold their arms out, possibly aiming with their fists specifically, and hit me in the face, and then call me "faggot," regardless, and ignorant of, any sexual history they might have known about. I had no idea who they were. I hadn't said a word to them, and had actually moved out of the way. They were out of sight soon after questioning my heterosexuality.

I crossed Landsdowne to ask a man who had seen it all if he had seen it all, and if there were any obviously split or bleeding spots. I felt a pain in my left temple, my upper lip was definitely swelling already, and my eye, well, it felt salty and sore. But the man was talking on his phone. Did you see those two guys on rollerblades? I asked. Yes. Do you see my lip split anywhere? No. Did you see them hit me?

"No, I'm not talking to you. There's a guy talking to me." This man was so uninterested, he had to explain to his friend on the phone at 2:24am that it didn't really matter what he was hearing from someone who had been pointlessly punched in the face by two strangers. Thanks, pal. He didn't even stop talking, despite the fact that my bloody hands were cupped around my nose to stop my blood from going on my shirt.

There's nobody to call the police on; it's just two assholes on rollerblades, and, as nice as it would be for someone to recognize that description, it probably won't get them any more hurt than I was, by a long shot.

So, thanks, folks, for making me think I might enjoy it here. It doesn't take much to cancel that thought. A split lip, bruised head, and swollen eye almost do it for me, but I've got two days left. Do your best.