Static’s second issue, First Times in Toronto, is out October 20th. So to celebrate, over the month, you’ll get to know the contributors of the issue through some of their first times in Toronto.

Since Carly Maga was a supporter of the maiden edition of Static Zine and witnessed its brilliance first-hand (ed note: aw shucks), she wasn’t about to let another one hit the printers without getting in on the action. Besides, between working as a social media community manager, staff writer for Torontoist, as well as contributing a few words to other online publications like The AV Club Toronto and OpenFile Toronto, this is one of the few opportunities she’ll get to see her name in print. A lot of Carly’s “Firsts in Toronto” happened in 2006 when she began studying journalism at Ryerson University – her first TIFF, for instance, which is her subject in Static’s second issue. This past weekend, she involuntarily referred to herself as a Torontonian in front of her relatives in Ottawa.

First time I felt like Toronto was home was in the summer of 2009 – it was the first time I stayed in the city instead of going home to Ottawa. A friend and I had begun this tradition of going for drives across the city in his convertible, which is still one of my favourite things to do. He’s a Toronto native, so on one clear night he drove me to this nondescript spot on the edge of Mississauga that has an unreal view of the skyline. We sat, looked over the lake, and we had a conversation that basically cemented our friendship as one of the closest I have today. I felt like I was finally finding my place in Toronto, and I remember looking at the skyline, feeling the breeze, and just thinking “Fuck, I love this city.”

First job was working the broadcast equipment cage for the Journalism Department at Ryerson. I got paid $13/hour to sit, watch TV, chat with friends, and occasionally hand out video cameras and tripods. I’ll never have a job that good again.

First house was: I refuse to call Pitman Hall at Ryerson a “home,” but in second year I moved into a condo at Sherbourne and The Esplanade with two buddies I was close with from high school who also went to Ryerson. It was an awesome three years – the place was great, the building had a pool and funny doormen, and I did all my grocery shopping at the St. Lawrence Market. My bedroom didn’t have a window, but whatever. It still doesn’t in my new place.

But back in Ottawa, I lived in one house all my life up until I moved to Toronto. And that remains my first and only real home.

First favourite neighborhood was the St. Lawrence/Corktown neighbourhood, since that was the first one I really got to know outside of the Dundas and Yonge area. I didn’t really get out of the Ryerson bubble much in first year.

First concert was a monumental one. I was completely, utterly, and fanatically in love with The Killers all through high school, and as a going away present, the guy I was seeing gave me two tickets to their show at Kool Haus that October. Well, that ended up being a Turkey Dump, but he insisted I keep the tickets (he was a very nice guy) so my older sister came down to join me for what was a very interesting night – which may or may not have included me almost breaking my foot and my sister punching a girl in the head. But I was just on air the entire time (and off my foot). And now I’m putting on The Killers as I write the rest of these.

First bar/club I went to was nothing noteworthy – probably either The Imperial Pub or Mick E. Fynn’s with fellow Froshies. Or anywhere that I thought would accept my fake ID. Not to equate The Imperial with Fynn’s in any way though, The Imperial is still a favourite.

First outdoor concert was The Stills in the Ryerson Quad during Frosh Week. I went with my new res roommate and another girl I just met (who is now my best friend).

First record store was at first I thought I would have to say something lame like HMV, but that last question reminded me it was Sam the Record Man, where I bought The Stills’s second album the day after I saw their show. I guess they’re both kind of relics now anyway.

First in-store was (I think) Sebastien Grainger and the Mountains at Sonic Boom.

First favorite book: This one I won’t limit to Toronto. I will say A Wish for Wings That Work: An Opus Christmas Story or Goodnight Moon. The former, my Dad would read to me every Christmas Eve, and the latter, well, that’s just boss. And always will be.

First library: God I sound boring. I hate to mention school again but technically my first library in Toronto was the Ryerson Library. Not that I ever spent much time in there, or any library. I mean, I could probably browse the aisles of the Theatre section for hours, quite literally. But when it comes to actually sitting down and getting work done, I find libraries a little stifling. I can’t deal with silence. Especially a place that demands it.

One thing though, is that I was sent to The Toronto Reference Library for a story for first year News Reporting class, and after I got over the shock of how HUGE it was, I found the newspaper archives in the basement quite neat. I recommend a browse or two.

First celebrity sighting was: You’ll have to wait for my Static story for this one!

First kiss was when my parents kissed me on the cheek after they helped move me into residence and said goodbye.

First heartbreak was: I don’t know, I guess when I realized my love for Death From Above 1979 after they had already broken up. A heartbreak that was mended this past summer at Osheaga, and again at Sound Academy this month.

But in all seriousness, my first real heartbreak since moving to Toronto is in my Static Zine story too.

First New Year’s was: I’ve still never had a New Year’s in Toronto. For the last few years I’ve been in Ottawa, Montreal, and on a plane heading to Sydney, Australia.

First time I went to the islands was for Virgin Festival 2007 – Interpol, Arctic Monkeys, M.I.A., Stars, Metric, The Smashing Pumpkins, and again, The Killers. It was the fucking most. But I’ve actually never been to the Islands for anything other than a Virgin Festival, or flying from the Island Airport. Static, let’s have a picnic there or something (ed note: yes!).

First time I got lost was: Jesus, I have zero sense of direction. I wanted to go to the Eaton Centre during my first week at my new residence, which is a grand total of about two blocks away. But I went in a giant, convoluted circle and got some nasty blisters from the shoes I was breaking in.

If I had a last day in Toronto, I would: Hmm, this will have to be a very sunny, warm, busy Saturday. Start with brunch at Lady Marmalade in Leslieville (my hood), grab my iPod and walk to the St. Lawrence Farmer’s Market for the best cinnamon buns I’ve ever had, continue on for shopping and coffee with friends at Kensington Market, and a purchase (or six) at Theatre Books before catching a play at Theatre Passe Muraille, Factory, or Tarragon. Hopefully, the night would end with nachos and dancing at Sneaky Dee’s, and an early morning stop at my friend’s waterfront lookout at the Toronto skyline. Yeah, that would be a perfect day.