I hate Woodbridge. You all know that.

It’s an awful place. As with most awful places, what makes is awful is the number of awful people living here.

All of the upper-middle class Italians with their hair gelled to the max leaning on their Honda Civics outside of Tim Hortons, night after night. Except on Friday nights, when they "reach ‘sus", and go to the local cinema and stand outside for three hours because actually seeing a movie at a movie theatre is for fags. And the girls all dress like sluts in the middle of February and then demand their boyfriends’ jackets. And the guys speak in monosyllabic vocabulary laden with words like "geeve" and "bro".

I mean, come on. We’re lucky enough to live in a somewhat wealthy area. We all have access to food, clean water, shelter, health services, and education, but we’re doing nothing with it. Are we retarded or just really lazy?

I’ve been through all of this before, and I don’t want to bore you. Simply put: Woodbridge sucks, and I’ve been waiting for a chance to get out for years and years.

And now that chance is here. University. I’m moving out in 17 days.

You’d think that I’d be overjoyed, but I’m not.

I mean, in defence of Woodbridge, it’s a safe place. We’ve had what? One murder in the last decade? And that was by a man from Toronto. Maybe it’s because we’re too busy being lazy to kill each other, but regardless of the reason, it’s a place you can walk around at night without feeling the least bit scared. And that’s comforting.

And in defence of Woodbridge, it’s a nice looking place. When the sun is shining at just the right angle, and you stand facing south, my street looks really nice. Every house is different. Some house individuals, most house families, and one or two house leaders in the international drug trade. But each one is different. And in a town where all the people look the same, different is good.

And in defence of Woodbridge, not everyone is as awful as I make them out to be. There are some really great people here, and I’ve made good friends out of a few of them. And while they’re all loyal people who would still be there for me even if I went to the moon for university, the idea of leaving them does not make me happy.

And in defence of Woodbridge, my whole family is nearby. My parents, who (though I’ll deny it if asked) have made some pretty good decisions for me in the past. My grandparents, who are a steady stream of love and support. My sister, who (though I’ll deny it if asked) I care about deeply, despite the somewhat frequent hiccups in our relationship. And my brother, who was one of the major reasons why I had such difficulty deciding to leave. He wanted me to stay, and I can’t help but feel that I’m letting him down in a big way. And I really don’t want to do that.

In defence of Woodbridge, it’s my home. And leaving home is never easy.