There was a summer sale at Chapter's on maps. I'd been meaning to buy a map of the area since the day I arrived. The two combined led me to purchase a 2006 Perly's Toronto and Area Map Book -- my comprehensive guide to this bohemoth of a city. Hundreds of non-glossy pages awaiting my perusal. I flip the hundreds of pages under my nose. It smells like the beginning of a road trip -- all new and crisp, the scent of manufactured preparation.

I've only briefly glimpse at its dry page after page of grid. Meanwhile, my other guide to the metropolis -- Toronto Life's 2006 Shopping edition -- is already crinkled and dotted with pink highlighter. Big surprise. As if I needed a magazine to discover the millions of unique little shops that pour out of every corner of this city. Though, I have been told some require winding down back alleys, and other hidden urban nooks

The two guides were part of a pack I bought to try to sustain myself without television. I also bout the Walrus and David Bergen's The Time in Between. I couldn't resist the Mennonite name in bold black ink over the photograph of a girl wearing flowing white Vietnamese Ao Dai.

But instead of poring over words, I ended up napping, cleaning, and finally settling into my place a little more. And then heading over to the grounds of Queen's Park (where the Ontario legislature stands) to wind my way through Afrofest.

Vendors were peddling their wares at stands throughout the park -- big chunky necklaces, Rastafarian hats, leather sandals, lotions, hair products, candles. A few Tibetan set up shop, too, though I couldn't help but wonder what they had to do with Afrofest...

In the middle of it all was a statue of Edward VII riding a horse with children chasing each other around it, clinging to the horse and swinging off the legs. Others played frisbee or soccer as a free concert continued to entertain crowds.

I headed to the festival alone. While I have no complaints about my big move to the big city, it's a bit of an adjustment not having fall-back buddies and insta-plans -- the kind you can rely on when you know people really well. You just know if you're bored, you can give them a ring and see if they're up for something.

It's hard to break friends in. And that is what it comes down to. Sometimes you know immediately you like someone and you click, but most of the time friendships develop in waves. There are certain milestones you can reach before you can, for example, call without a reason or make last-minute plans. Adults can become fast-friends like children, instantly clinging to each other and giggling and making future plans. But I find that rare, and far more likely to happen in instances where all parties are in the same boat -- like when I moved to Japan. We were all alone. But try breaking into an established group as the sole outsider. It takes concentration, like breaking a habit.

So, until I've managed to tear a hole in some of these Torontonians' thick armour, perhaps I'll look a little more into buying that television... and maybe making my apartment more friend friendly.