Uggggghhhh Days that suck

As someone who has pretty much had everything handed to her/been sheltered from the tough gritty crappy bits of the world and everyday life, ‘Days that Suck‘ come as quite the surprise. I can only liken them to a person who enjoys swimming in a glittering, warm pool every, single day, who is suddenly shocked when a giant dead squid rises from the depths and into their face. It’s smelly, its slimy, you feel uncomfortable and you just want that thing OUT of your life and for it to return to normal.

…How we liking that imagery? Yeah…it’s pretty offbeat, but I think i’ll keep it.

If you read my blog frequently (and statistics say that you do*) you will have read many instances of my whiny rumbles about this and that. I try to make it fun for both of us by saying WIDLY inappropriate things and throwing in funny instances from my wacky childhood. (Oh you!)

So strap yourself down because here comes another family-friendly rant about why my fairly cushy pampered life sucks.

I mentioned a few blog posts ago that I was annoyed to discover a mistake on my visa (once it was issued) and because I am apparently not detail oriented at all (must take that off my resume) I didn’t notice for 14 months. It has been two weeks since then, and I have been waiting patiently for the errors made (not by me) to be fixed.

2 weeks and it still hasn’t begun to be processed…

My lovely friend Kate (also an Aussie and also my main access to calm at the moment) tells me that these places are CRAP and that I shouldn’t sweat it and we all know they suck and blah blah blah.

But if you know me at all (and statistics say that you do*) then you’ll know that there has not been a day in my life where someone would describe me as patient. In fact if you could turbo charge the word IMpatient, attach lasers to it and get it to roll around on the floor like it was having an epileptic fit, then thats what I would be described as. Is there a word for that in the English language? Hum.

I’m tired of sitting at home on my increasingly fat ass like a dole-bludger but with no dole and no TV. Today, inspired by my Mother, who is always right and who I should listen to more, I got tough and contacted people. I was in a frenzy for two hours (don’t take no for an answer! My mother yelled, like a battle cry) and finally got someone at the Visa call centre to process a complaint on my file. Now an agent must call me. Why didn’t this happen a week ago? I look forward to the agent who is calling me in 24-48 hours. But oh how I wish my mother was here to give them a piece of my mind (because I’m kind of bad at that, i’m like, here…would you like some of my mind? A piece perhaps? My Mum is like HERE IS ALL OF MY FUCKING PIECES, YOU WILL TAKE THEM AND YOU WILL BE THANKFUL AND YOU WILL ASK FOR SECONDS.)

Surprisingly saddened by the fact that my consulate here in Toronto was very unhelpful. I spoke to a guy who sympathized with me two weeks ago. I called back and got the same guy (how many people are working there?) and with my “don’t take no for an answer!” attitude, was put on the phone to a scary lady who told me the exact same information and said it in that lovely Bitchy tone that some middle aged Australian women can use:

Think the mean girls from Porpoise Spit from the movie ‘Murials Wedding’ (if you don’t get that reference, go get that movie, Toni Collette is amazing in it.)

Now I think I’ll go eat the rest of the nutella out of the jar.

I know I am not the first person in the world to be unemployed/a sad sack, but its a true shock for someone who has always had the easiest ride.

UNIVERSE REVEAL YOUR TRUE PLAN!

When I went to the fountain of wisdom (my mum) and asked her if she thought all this was a sign I should leave Canada, she told me that I should kill a chicken, look at it entrails and there I would find the sign the message that the universe has been trying to tell me… LIFE FUCKING SUCKS AND IS HARD SOMETIMES. Deal with it.

Oh okay.

I’ll try that

24 things they don’t warn you about before you turn 24

24. You can’t handle your alcohol like you used to:
When I lived at College for 3 years, my liver was a hardened criminal, used to taking no shit from no bitches, and handling, on average, 7-8 drinks a night 6-7 times a week (sometimes we didn’t drink on Sundays…sometimes). Now my liver is a Pussy, and it has made the rest of my body soft and weak. Stupid age.

23. Some things that were cute when you were 18, are not cute now you are a hop skip and a jump away from being thirty:
Like losing all your stuff on a night out (oh darn, you lost your phone again? WOOPSIES! You fucking moron) or getting caught in the rain with no umbrella (YOU CHECKED THE WEATHER ON YOUR COMPUTER BEFORE YOU LEFT!) We’re too smart now to do dumb things like this. Or, we’re just too dumb and evolution needs to sort that out.

22. People are going to start settling down, and shit:
Check my blog from Monday where I detailed the stuff I don’t know about weddings. But weddings aside, people are getting engaged, their moving in with each other, they’re not going out as much any more because they’re saving for things. WTF mate.

21. Your health is more important:
But I WANNA eat that cheesecake at lunch and still get frozen yogurt after my dinner of pizza and mozzarella sticks. WHAT THE HELL IS A CLOGGED ARTERY AND WHY SHOULD I CARE ABOUT IT?! You’re also going to get fat as fuck with your metabolism peaking out on you.

20. People are going to ask you what you do…all the time:
When I was 18, people assumed I was at University. I didn’t know people that weren’t. I might have asked them what they were studying if I was trying to be polite or trying to make out with them, but I didn’t really care (it was just the pre-hitting on them move). Now people ask me all the time what I do. What shall I tell them? “I WAS working in retail (which I hated) and then I found out my visa had an error on it so now I’m just interning and mindlessly cruising the internet. Is this the part where I ask you and you can tell me even though I don’t really care?”

19. At first paying your own bills and doing your own laundry was exciting and fun. Now it isn’t.

18. There are people younger than you, more successful and more famous than you. And you should feel bad.

17. You won’t live forever:
This shocked me. I went to my first funeral this year and where I used to think 50 was sooooooo old, now I can’t help thinking my friends mum died SOOOOOO YOUNG. I’ll be fifty in 26 years. That’s not enough time to do all the things I need to do! Maybe i’m not invincible…

16. Every year – things seem to speed up and go a little faster:
I can’t believe I just had another birthday. Didn’t I just have one last month? See number 17.

15. All that talent you displayed in High School – when people told you how unique and creative you were…
Well there’s lots more competition now.

14. Your parents protected you from a lot of the crazy out there.
It’s going to rattle tins at you on the corners, it’s going to knock on your door and try to tell you about jesus. Someway, some how, each year the crazy is going to try and seep into your life and you are going to become more and more aware of a) how scary it is and b) how not difficult it would be to join those ranks.

13. Cliques and Bitchyness didn’t end in High School:
Best to have a “Fuck it” attitude and just be you. Cos Heyoooh, if you don’t like you, no one else is going to buy into your crap.

12. You should have done a degree with the title of a job in it:
Like Accounting or Law. Your wishy washy arts/liberal/science degree ain’t gonna get you no where easily. Having read all of Jane Austen’s novels is not something you can put on your resume.

11. You’re getting too old to accept some of these new music types:
Skrillex.

10. There are lots of lame things you need to do to survive:
Like taxes, keeping your eye on your bank account and getting health check ups.

9. People are going to judge you on what wine’s you drink:
“I drink to get drunk” is no longer an acceptable or funny answer.

8. Some of the best paying jobs sound boring as shiiiiiit:
Account manager for a paper company. Sales and Marketing Division leader at Do You Hate Your Life Yet LTD.

7. Your tastebuds are changing and things you used to hate you might start to like and things you used to love might make you go “Meh.”

6. You can’t believe everything you see on TV:
BUT BUT! Everything always has a happy ending!

5. You are going to lose touch with some of your best friends:
As everyone’s lives adapt at a different pace and people move all over the world. But don’t worry because there are always amazing new people to meet, and you never know what they are going to bring to your life.

4. You are going to make mistakes, and you are going to be okay:
I used to think I had to have all the answers all the time, but now in my period of waiting and watching and applying and sighing, I realize that I’m allowed to fall down and make mistakes and take this moment of question-mark-ness. Now I realize that if I fall, I just have to get back up, and if I fall again, I’m just going to have to get back up again. That’s the journey.

3. You only have to answer to you – when it comes to life decisions:
I used to think I had to keep up with the crowd, do cool things, impress my parents, reach a certain status. Now I’m starting to learn that I couldn’t be something I’m not, that that is where my life path is. See #17. When I die, I’, hoping that in the split second before I expire, when my life is all laid out in front of me like a patch work quilt, I tried my best as a person to be good and love those around me, but also that I tried my best to listen to my heart and do what was in it.

2. If you want something, you have to ask for it.
No body is just going to hand you your dreams and ambitions. It’s a hard, slippery, scary path, but you have to walk it because nobody else is going to walk it for you. Remember in school when if you wanted to join a sports team or do the play, your parents had to sign something, or they could call the teachers and complain if you didn’t get in? Now it’s you that has to make the fuss, ask for things, fight for yourself.

1. You are going to have SO much fun!

And those are my 24 things. Some are rude, harsh, cynical. Some are sappy and some were just me scrabbling. But there they are laid out for you.

Enjoy.

Things I know nothing about: Weddings

So it turns out that I’m old enough to know people who are my age that are getting married.

I feel like I’m not alone in this. You’re just a twenty something minding your own business and then BAM on Facebook a girl you went to high school with but don’t really know got engaged. Then there are the wedding pics 6-12 months later. Weird. But okay it’s on the periphery so I can deal…HOLY SHIT ANOTHER ONE!

You’re huddled under the covers rocking yourself to sleep thinking, “Okay but I never really knew her that well…” and then BAM, someone you do know well gets engaged.

Why are these people doing grown-up things when I can’t even use that blender I bought (It’s 10 speed okay…it’s really tricky).

Well. Ever since moving to Toronto I’ve met quite a few married people and they are quite normal and functioning. Granted that most of them are about 4-5 years older than me, (war wounds of dating a guy in that age bracket with lots of friends) but I’ve never really thought about it because they are already married and it kind of just seems like they’re a couple, but one of them has a big hard rock…and one of them has a pretty ring on her left hand. Did you see what I did there? That’s what we call “innuendo” or “an attempt at a dirty joke.” (WELL IF SOMEONE JUST HURRIED UP AND HIRED ME I WOULDN’T BE HOME ALONE WITH THE HEDGEHOG THINKING UP THESE TERRIBLE PUNS!)

I digress.

When I first started living in Toronto and started dating lovely Canadian boyfriend, he introduced me to many of his friends. One couple in particular I hit it off with, simply because they may be a crazier couple than Canuckboyf and I. It was love at first opening line when the female half of the couple sat down next to me at an event (at which I knew NO ONE and had literally been dating Canuckboyf for a month) and basically told me how she just wanted to get drunk and that we should go find the booze.

So we did. And may I say, the evening got less intimidating from there.

Anyway, we had some crazy fun nights with these two and then earlier this year the male half of this couple had some kind of revelation that he is dating one of the coolest chicks around, and proposed to her.

That’s so exciting!

Oh no wait! WHAT? That is TERRIFYING!

Yes. My reaction is over the top, and maybe you’re starting to think that I’m just a commitment-phobe. Fine. Yes. I have been known to run away from people that love me in the past, but that’s not it. This is more my fear about growing up and having to be a real person, rather than the fear of actually being with someone you love. I love love. I love the hollywood pre-packaged love. I like to look at pretty dresses and cakes and shoes and there were a good many years where one of my favourite parks in Hong Kong was my favourite because you could go on Saturdays and watch all the wedding photo’s taking place. I like wedding things.

But in my head I just finished High School…even though it has actually been six years, and I didn’t know anybody back then that was getting engaged or getting married and in my mind I still don’t. I’m still trying to pretend that I’m a child even though I’ve been allowed to drink and vote for over half a decade. The fact that I do a lot more of the former and very little of the latter just goes to show where my head is at. Maybe my wilful refusal to learn to drive is also a clue.

Regardless, I am turning 24 on Wednesday and that is something I have to face. I also know someone getting married. Fine. Breathe in, Breathe out.

A future picture of me on my wedding day

Yesterday I went to a bridal brunch. And it was really beautiful and lovely. It was the first bridal thing I’ve ever been too, and although internally I was freaking, I attempted to sit at the table like a calm lady, eat items from the delicious buffet and tried to not obviously eye-up the present table. I hoped mine didn’t look wrong. It wasn’t from the registry where I could buy my friend some towels or some bowels (the only available items), but was instead a couple of indulgent treats – the kind of thing I’d like to get.

Shall I rant about Registry’s? No, maybe another time. But seriously. I get the functionality of one. I do. But there is nothing exciting you can say about a steamer or a cake dish covering…whatever. Maybe one day if I get married I’ll be like “THANK GOD for the registry and my friends XYZ who got me this wonderful steamer.” Then I’ll tie on my apron, and clean the house waiting for my hardworking husband to come home so I can fix him a scotch and make him his dinner while telling the children to Shush and do their homemade jigsaw puzzle I created at my craft group.

At the table I was at for the bridal shower, were two girls who had recently-ish gotten married, and another girl who got engaged about a month ago. I felt like I was from another planet (more than usual) when listening to them talk about cake designers and venues. Maybe I would feel less like a fish out of water if I’d been to a wedding before and could make certain nodding motions about things like certain bands and dresses…but as it stands, I haven’t and I am mystified about things like that. The only contribution I could make to the girl discussing all the cakes she tried was…

what was your favourite flavour?!

Because honestly, that’s the only part of the conversation I could understand. CAKES?!!? CAKES HAVE FLAVOURS!!
Quick Paris, get involved! Ask about Flavours!

When she answered that she couldn’t choose, I still internally high-fived myself because hey, I asked a question in the right context and got a response.

Socializing WIN.

Weddings are exciting, and it’s exciting when people get engaged. It kinda feels like high school when we’d all freak out when one of the girls got asked out by one of the boys in Year Five and they were official after recess. Except this time it’s going to be LEGALLY official and somebody somewhere is dropping some serious dollars to make that happen.

Also it hopefully won’t be all over by lunch!

Since my friend-bride got engaged, Canuckboyfs flatmate also got engaged, my friend from Hong Kong who lives here got engaged, and another of the Boyfs close friends from High School got engaged. If they so choose to invite me to their weddings, that is another 3 weddings in the next 12-18 months. I guess it’s something I’m going to have to start getting used too… Anyone for a Cake Platter Cover?

At least nobodies pregnant yet…

Paris

 

 

Plot twist – Oh but of course

In a surprising turn of events that isn’t really, in any way, a shock – because my life sometimes reads like a bad D grade Screenplay, it turns out there is a mistake on my Visa.

Is it really a big deal that the legal document that allows me to work and live in the great white north has a mistake on it, made by some moron at the Border over a year ago when I arrived? Yes. I’d say my answer to that would be yes.

It’s not really a long story, but I’ll speed it up for you anyways. As an Aussie in Canada under the age of 30, I am eligible for what is called a “Working Holiday Program Visa”, which allows (if I meet the criteria – which I do) for me to work for any company in any field in any part of Canada (pretty sweet I know…but now you know why almost the entire population of Whistler is from Down-Unda. Add to this amazing visa the fact that you can renew it again and again while you still meet the criteria…and…well… now we know why there is such a love affair between our two great nations.

Imagine my surprise then when yesterday afternoon working my retail job (which – let’s be honest, I hate) I was busily unpacking a box of HEINOUS new button up shirts and was told I would have to leave immediately.

My first reaction was confusion, the Manager that approached me was not being a bitch and told me that it wasn’t personal, but that head office had called after checking my visa and that I wasn’t eligible to work there anymore. My second reaction was fear, I instantly started sweating, HAD I somehow done something wrong when I entered the country? But i’d been working just fine for the same Summer Camp company with no drama’s. My third reaction was panic (naturally) I left work and sat for what felt like 3 hours on the train trying to get back to my apartment to check my documentation and work it all out.

I always thought I was quite good under pressure. Nope, turns out I am a hyperventilating, snivelling, cry baby. Thank god for level-headed friends like Kate who came over with her own Aussie Passport and her calm nature. We called all the right people and figured out that this is what happened:

The guy who entered all my information into my visa fucked up.

Where my visa should say “Employer: Open” this douche-bag (who I remember so clearly by the way – even though I had been awake for 36 hours and was all alone in a foreign country – I knew this guy seemed so disinterested and pissed off) typed the name of the company I was planning on working for the summer (AND he spelt it wrong. Ass-hat).

So the people in Ottawa have to fix it now. All the paper-work has been sent off, but of course I cannot work until the visa is fixed and back in my passport. I cried and cried to the call centre with the information, but the only help they could give me was a form and a suggestion to write URGENT on the front. Good stuff guys. Great work.

No one is able to write me a letter to say “Hey um…we messed up…lol…sorry, she can work” to show my employer, so I am effectively terminated from retail until further notice.

Hum.

The timing of this is immaculate. I may have to steal this episode from my own life and implant it into a screenplay somewhere. Girl: 23 turning 24 in one week, hates job, wants to change life, is giving a week-a month (yep that’s what the time period is here…AHHHH!) of time where she can’t work. Watch how she changes her life and realizes what she was looking for was in front of her the entire time!

It is genius. Thanks Universe, you deserve a medal.

So here is a list of things I could do in a week-a month where I am unable to fold clothes and put minimum wage in my bank account:

LIST OF THINGS TO DO WHILE YOU’RE WAITING AROUND FOR IDIOTS TO MOVE THEIR ASS:

• Finish the Screenplay I started in a fever last month and which I haven’t started since
• Get my Youtube channel up and running, I have an idea for a comedy thing, (not sure how it will be received as it just involves me ranting at the camera and maybe puking)
• Study for and ACTUALLY BOOK to sit the written drivers test in this country. OH GOD I’m going to be another year older and still drivers license-less
• Apply for more jobs I don’t hate
• Do all the menial boring jobs around the house I’ve been putting off, like donate that huge bag of unwanted clothes in our living room
• Do my tax return that was meant to be done in May
• Maybe do my Australian Tax return just to let them know I don’t live there any more (due..?!?)
• Do some exercise and stop eating Pringles for breakfast
• Go to the cheap Rainbow Theatre’s cinemas and see all the movies that are out that I want to see
• Watch the entire first season of Deadwood
• Finally go to the doctor and get my hormone levels checked so we can figure out this neck beard thing
• Visit some friends in another part of Canada (leaving the country is out at this stage unfortunately…)
• Throw myself into my internship and get more experience
• Start day drinking
• Read all the books I took from a free book giveaway a year ago that just sit on my shelves
• Wander around the city and take in more sites (possibly shoeless and smelly, just to get the true homeless person experience – because that’s what I feel like I am right now)
• Cat sit my friends new kitten
• Learn to cook something that doesn’t suck

WOW! Look at all the things I could do!

I can’t help thinking about that AWFUL book that I read 6 pages of and then potentially on purpose lost “The Secret” which told me that the Universe listens to the vibes you are putting out (so the people on the Titanic were…what?) and about how much I have been complaining about retail lately………….

Universe? Are you listening? I’d like a writing job on SNL if possible? And an apartment overlooking Central Park in NYC…and a chocolate fountain in my bedroom and Tina Fey for a best friend…are you getting that? Hope so!

 

Paris

MUM MUM! I’m going to be on TV!

I am looking forward to Tomorrow morning because when I wake, I’ll brush my hair, wash my face (usually it looks like a snail slept at the corner of my mouth because of all the shiny drool marks), I’ll try to put on an outfit that doesn’t make me look fat or emphasize the natural redness of my face, and I’ll put on my clipity cloppy shoes, take my handbag full of grown-up things like keys and left-over birthday cake, and I’ll go to the TV studio where I do my internship with a happy little jiggle in my step. Because Tomorrow I get to film a reporter segment. That’s right, some crazy person here in Toronto is actually going to let me interview someone and (theoretically) put that gargled-word-spew on Television. Where people can watch it. People who haven’t been strapped to an electromagnetic pulsing chair with their eyelids held open.

Yay me!

In all seriousness, I probably won’t be that bad. I’ve done five minutes of research on the organization we are covering, and I even went to their website. I’ve read the media pack and I am good to go. How much more prepared could I be? Doing this uncut, un-edited 6 minute interview with children will be as easy as squashing my triple d’s into that bra I swear still fits.

It’s going to happen one way or another. I just hope it won’t be too painful.

No but seriously, I am so happy to have this opportunity. I don’t think I’ve mentioned it before, but I’m turning 24 next week, and for some reason I keep feeling like working in retail is crushing my soul and making me question if I’m doing the right thing being thousands of kilometres away from my family all alone in a random country that no one in my family had ever even thought of before I decided I’d never leave.

Oh I’m sorry… I didn’t mention that I’m having one of those what-the-hell-am-i-doing-with-my-life moments? At what point do we just give up and say “Paris you are not just having a what-the-hell-am-i-doing-with-my-life moment, you just generally don’t know what the hell you are doing with your life” ?

In theory, when people ask me about my life-plan, I mumble something about film and television and Tina Fey and riches enough to buy me a sweet purebred dog and an apartment overlooking some kind of harbour. And in theory, North America seems like the place to be for all that jazz, what with its massive amount of productions and population and all that stuff. And yes, you are right, technically I should be in LA or NYC but I haven’t figured out how to navigate the USA visa website without getting exhausted so SHUTUP I’m in Canada, which is like wanting to Keep up with a Kardashian but instead sitting in a room with Bruce Jenner trying to figure out how to find Kim or Koala or whatever the other ones are called.

In the last almost two months since that weird vortex called Camp finished and I came back and joined the real-world after a summer of living under a micro-scope and fighting about who got which days off, I have applied to probably 60 film and television companies based here. I have written funny cold call type emails and attached my Resume, I have tried to network with people I think might know people, I have literally not stopped pushing at that glass aquarium that surrounds the entertainment industry, trying to find a crack. And whoever did the waterproofing has surely done a fine job.

No cracks are to be found.

I did have an interview with a very big production and distribution company thanks to a friend of mines dad (oh did I tell you I didn’t know it was an interview and thought it was a meeting so…kindof just turned up totally mentally unprepared?) and even thought that went AWESOMELY I (surprisingly) didn’t really hear back from them (outside of it was great to meet you).

I know that people search for the right job for months and months, and its winter now and blah blah blah.

But give this girl a break.

I am hardworking and smart and I have a pretty great Resume for one seeking just an entry-level job… what is it?!

I need the Universe to unfold as it should FASTER. I am trying to approach each day as a learning experience, trying to keep faith with the old patience and trying to keep working and chipping at that old job-searching thing but LORD is it exhausting to try to contact 60 people and to hear back from 4, all politely to let you know that they currently aren’t hiring.

I’m not alone I know. I have two friends who just arrived in Toronto trying to get jobs too. And they are in Finance/HR and Business. So it isn’t like it’s just my industry. BUT COME ON! We’re girls and we need to start making some money so we can buy nice things and take our boyfriends to trendy restaurants. This isn’t the 50′s any more. A girls got to work it.

Thank god the internship I’m doing is still throwing challenges at me and making me feel like I’m maybe not probably trying to cling to the imaginary hope of a career in this industry.

So yeah, I’ll let you know when you can tune in. Hopefully the Canadians will be able to understand my accent.

End Rant

(Photocredit: Icanhazcheezburgers.com)

Dream a little dream of Me

Woke up an hour before my alarm this morning because of an extremely vivid bad dream. Because I start work at 7am, this makes the hour of my sit-up-gasping-in-bed moment around 5 am. I try to roll over, try to shush my pounding heart, but there is no quieting the mind when you realize you have to be up soon anyway. And that the nightmare you just had contains some truth to it. So rather than lie in the dark in anguish counting down the seconds…why not get on the internet and Rant?

My Mum says that I put too much stock in my dreams, always trying to understand what they mean. And she is right. I have always respected and wondered at underlying meanings in dreams. Just last night, my very cool and not-weird-at-all Roomie told me about a dream she had where she was an elephant. She spent quite a while trying to search for meaning online. Well then. See Mother. It is not only I who quests for meaning.

I get that dreams are our brains processing thoughts from our day…or our minds unwinding – working through the slough of our conscious-self (Google had this to say: Dreams are successions of images, ideas, emotions, and sensations that occur involuntarily in the mind during certain stages of sleep.^[1] The content and purpose of dreams are not definitively understood, though they have been a topic of scientific speculation, as well as a subject of philosophical and religious interest, throughout recorded history. – Thank you Wikipedia).

While I try not to let my dreams affect my waking life, when something in my REM cycle makes me sit bolt upright at 5am, it’s definitely time to re-asses a situation and figure out what it is that so startled you and hurtled you into consciousness.

In this instance, the dream was about the loss of a relationship that I hold to be very important in my life. I dreamt that an event had already occurred which had ended this bond, and I was powerless to stop the ensuing shit-show. I bumped into the person and all they could do was look at me in disgust and walk away. And I was left with that heart-creating-scar-tissue feeling you get when you feel like you are so sad you might break in half.

For someone who has always been a bit of a control freak, change is difficult (I know it’s ironic considering I love to travel and move around) and change that is out of my control…well I have always struggled with that one. Better to be the one calling “DO THE HOKEY POKEY!!” than the kid on the side who suddenly finds out it’s Hokey Pokey time.

I know that you can’t value yourself by the people in your life, you are a separate entity that works towards being the best version of you you can be (theoretically) but it’s hard not to get that path entwined with the paths of others. You are born into a family grid automatically, intertwining with those around you, you go to school and get mixed up in those friends lives, you fall in and out of love twisting up your journey even more. Those people around you become so important, and I know the quotes about when you are born, you are born alone and when you die, you die alone, but for this brief shining wonderful life on Earth, your People are your measure, they are your community. People often make assumptions about you in regards to the company you keep, so it is not wholly stupid to consider the people around you.

At the end of Year 12 I went on a Grad Trip, and during this trip, I had a slow realization that the people I was with were very different from me. I felt like I didn’t fit in with them, and with all of us headed to different Universities in different parts of the world, I wasn’t sure if we would be friends later in life. When I got back to Hong Kong, and one of my best friends and I got into a HUGE fight about something that had happened during our self-exploratory week away, I basically told her to “Have a nice life.” And I cut her off.

In the past 6 years, I can safely say I’ve thought about that every 6 months or so. I haven’t really spoken to my ex-friend since (apart from bumping into her once or twice) but I always kind of regret it. It’s been more years since High School was over than the years of friendship we actually shared during those confusing adolescent semesters.

But the rapidity with which I closed myself off to her surprised me. I have a stubborn streak it’s true, but I have never considered myself a cold, hard-hearted person, and that is how I treated her at the time. Granted there was A LOT of other shit going on in my life, but I sometimes struggle to wrap my head around how I just DECIDED to break that relationship.

A similar situation arose almost two years ago, but I was on the other side of the friendship being ended. The details aren’t important, but I was very sad. I got caught in a crossfire fight between two friends, and for some reason, was cut off like a dead limb from one of them.

It is painful to be sure, to lose someone so totally that is still alive and actually around, but I think the message that awoke me this morning with sweaty fuddled realization is that perhaps I need to strive to be more independent and less reliant or invested (are those the right words) in the relationships around me. People come and go from your life in a fluid natural journey, and you can’t hold on too tight.

Or maybe I need to stop taking all this cold and flu medication as it’s making me have really weird dreams.

Dunno.

I guess I’ll get up now and go to work.

End Rant

Six Feet Under-standing

Today I finished watching the fifth season of a little HBO show they like to call ‘Six Feet Under’. I began watching Season One earlier this year with intelligent and sort of cineophile-ish Canuck boyfriend. When he began explaining the premise of the show (that it is about a family who own, operator and live at the premises of a funeral parlour) I was intrigued but hesitant (the fact that he has not once been wrong in suggesting a film to me is besides the point.)

What began in the early part of this year ended today, and to his credit, Canuck boyfriend watched the entire thing again from start to finish with me, without missing an episode. We would discuss at length this emotional, fantastic show about love and loss and everything in between.

I haven’t watched many shows from start to finish without missing an episode, and especially with the same person in the room for every viewing experience. I think the last time something like this happened I was in Hong Kong for Christmas, and my Mum and I downloaded the first and second season of ‘Archer’ a wickedly funny animated adult-ish show about a spy agency. I was supposed to be heading out later that evening, but Mum and I downloaded them all, started drinking Bailey’s in the afternoon and couldn’t stop. I have never laughed so hard, nor snorted Milk so far across a room before.

But watching ‘Six Feet’ was different. Not only are the characters so real that you miss them and hope for their safety and well-being, but the way the show progresses is in a linear narrative structure, so each episode reveals something new about the characters and deepens their journey. And while I’m sure that each episode has its stand-alone qualities (each episode begins with a death and follows a similar structure, jumping from story lines that ensnare the different characters) after watching 5 series of this show in order…I can’t imagine just flicking on the TV and catching a re-run, or skipping to episodes I think I might like better.

After five series you believe in the struggles of the Fishers (the main family) and their community, and you have also watched them grow and develop, make up and break up, so you feel like you know their past and where they might be headed.

The whole cast and crew of this show can not be commended highly enough. They take you on a roller coaster of emotion, and although I am extremely late to the party on this one (the fifth season ended in 2005) I feel that the messages and struggles within the show are relatable to each of us today.

Whether it is David’s struggle with accepting his sexuality and wanting a family, Nate’s fear of commitment and responsibility, Ruth’s fight for independence and self-image after years of playing the role of wife and Mother, or Claire’s desire to be heard, to not be forgotten about and to be loved, we have all been there, we have all felt at times like a David, a Nate, a Ruth or a Claire. This show reminds us that life is not always pretty. It’s intense and interesting, but it ain’t always sunshine and lollipops.

In a TV and film landscape where producers and film studios are still trying to feed us glittery images of a Utopia that doesn’t exist (well…maybe it does…on the backlots of LA studios) this show is refreshing a sad and unflinching when it comes to dealing with pain.

‘Six Feet Under’ says:

Hey you know what? Sometimes life sucks. But you’ll get over it.

Everyone always said to me that the last episode would stay with me. After the tumultuous five seasons, I couldn’t imagine where the writers could take us after all the hurt we as an audience had endured. But they really took it to the next level and everyone was right. The last episode was amazing.

I would recommend that people commit to the 70 or so hours of viewing, just for the last ten minutes of episode twelve, season five.

I wish sometimes that life was documented like a TV show (I’d definitely want mine to be HBO). Things happen to us in increments sometimes, just little tiny pieces of the days and nights and they add up to make big things, to change lives for the better or for the worse, but always clumping together to form hours and days and months and years. And it’s hard to see them in big picture form. Sure, you’ll remember the big ones, the day she said yes, the day you signed your name on the deeds of the new place, births, deaths, awkward school reunions…

But what about the moments of interaction with a family member – where you learned something unique about them just for a split second, where you saw them in a different light for just a moment? In TV land the character could narrow their eyes and the music could come up, but in real life those moments go undocumented. They just happen and without realizing them, or having the remote control to go back, freeze and re-watch, we are unable to perhaps identify significance – or appreciate that nuance to the extreme.

The underlying message that I took away from this incredible show is that life is short and hard sometimes, but beautiful.

I’ll try to keep that in my heart on the days I wonder what the fuck I’m doing with my life

Though it’s cold and lonely in the deep dark night…and other Meat Loaf lyrics

So I may have mentioned that I am working in retail lately…and that I loathe it.

I’m subtle, so you probably haven’t picked up on it really, but there it is. I am not the retail industries number one fan. I have a new-found respect for people who work in this industry full-time, people who have to deal with people every day. BRRRR. Worst. Take me back to the cold lonely office.

No no. I jest (somewhat) people aren’t all bad, and neither is retail. The 50% off discount is pretty sweet (oh wait, did I need to pay my rent this month with that money? Woopsies!) and on occasion, it has allowed for some pretty creative ideas to form in my mind (like… lets start a family band!) as all those mindless hours folding clothes and getting sizes, and scanning and bagging let my mind roam of the great plains of imagination.

And as I have mentioned… I occasionally get to interact with human beings that make me think that we’re not all bad (just some of us).

This week was insanely long, and yet surprisingly quick, if that is at all possible. I think it was because the Thanksgiving long weekend loomed, and I had a whole lot of hanging around looking cool to do. The store I work in had a big sale Thursday and Friday and I racked up 18 hours of standing at a cash register processing people’s purchases. I felt like a zombie and forgot how to even have a real conversation with people or how to make connections with them, because the line to check out was out the shop and around the corner. One of the girls spent hours just standing guard at the lines to make sure people didn’t just walk off with stuff.

But earlier in the week I had two very strange and yet special encounters with people. One was a deaf lady who wanted to buy a leather Jacket. I am an extremely good lip reader, so conversing face to face was not a problem with this customer, but difficulties arose when she went into the change room and wanted to try different things on. Usually we only need knock and hand things over. Not possible in this case. The woman was very nice, petite and short with a big sparkly ring on the 2nd last finger of her left hand. We also ran into difficulties as she spoke with the accent of someone that has clearly been deaf their entire life. The word medium bewildered the both of us for a good thirty seconds and I was definitely the more embarrassed.

But she found what she needed and she was happy. Off she went into the world…leaving a piece of herself with me to think and muse about.

Then the following day, a woman with dark glasses and a gorgeous black labrador came in. Well dressed, nicely groomed, I noticed her standing in the middle of the shop fingering a couple of things here and there. I finally approached her and asked if I could help her. She asked me if we still had any of the gray work pants with the blue stripe through them that we used to have in the window. This woman was completely blind.

Her beautiful black lab wagged his tail slowly and I scratched his nose, aware that you are not meant to really fuss over guide dogs as they are working. I then spent a very strange half an hour with this woman, trying to gage what she might like by asking questions (we no longer had any more of the gray pants with the blue stripe through them). When I asked her if she was after anything in particular she replied:

“No, I’m just looking around.”

She wasn’t trying to be funny (you’ll notice that when I asked if she was after anything in particular I studiously avoided the word “look” because there have been instances in my life where I have been extremely insensitive and said things I shouldn’t have in the wrong settings. Like the time in Year 9, the first year at my new school in Hong Kong, when a young boy in a wheelchair asked if he could race a friend of mine the distance of the oval, and as they began I screamed at the top of my lungs “RUN DAVID RUN!” much to the horror of my politically correct Year 9 friends who were obviously, even then, more sensitive than I will ever be.)

So I didn’t laugh. Which was good. And instead I brought her things, described them the best I could (for a writer and someone who uses a lot of words…my vocabulary is shit…and I suck at life) and basically helped her “Look around”. She was so lovely, and was very thankful. For me, it was a surreal experience that I have been processing since the start of the week.

So there it is.

Tiny, weird exceptions to the I hate retail mantra I have taken up.

Oh yeah, and happy Thanksgiving…and stuff