Money or Dreams

This week has been tumultuous. I’ve been all up and down like a birthday clown coming off meth, and GEE WHIZ has it been fun for the people around me. Props to my boyfriend for not breaking up with me (thanks guy, you’re great), and props to my family for not changing their last names and going into hiding to get the F away from me.
The reason for the moody mood-ring emotional rollercoaster? Why, dreams of course. Splendid Rose-glasses-tinted dreams. The kind that mean you are like a bloodhound on a scent when it comes to jobs and opportunities and real life. The kind of dreams that wait impatiently in the back of your mind whispering:

“why haven’t I been realized yet? What are you doing? Every day you don’t do something valuable is another day closer to death.”

I like to imagine the voice whispering in the voice of Darth Vader, “psssh Paris, caaaaaw, what are you doing pssssh, cawwww with your fucking life pssssh.”
I digress.

So I’ve been temping here and there…whatever it’s boring… I mean it’s not that boring, I’ve worked in some cool companies, made some new contacts, you know the usual…and this week the Temp Agency (which has been excellent and kept me busy) contacted me and asked me if I’d be interested in being put forward for a job outside of the Creative Field. The role sounded like boring admin, but here’s the kicker… the money was excellent.

I had to have a good grapple with myself. I gave up a cushy admin position back in August to pursue my dreams of Film and Television. I’m young, I don’t really have any commitments, but HELLO it’s been exhausting scraping by each month. A part of me was really really REALLy attracted to the offer.

And then Darth Vader exploded in my head.

Literally, the Dark Side was calling me, but in this case the Dark side was the corporate world, the world of 9-5 and boring KILLMYSELF office politics. Stability. Health care. Benefits. All those words which must mean a lot at some point.
But not today, and possibly not tomorrow, and possibly not for the next few years.
It is stressful trying to keep a positive attitude about going after what you love (especially when a lot of other people seem to want it too), but there is also knowing in your gut when something is the right or wrong path to take. Do I want to wake up in ten years and realize that I’m unhappy? NO.

Would I rather keep slogging it out, working for free, getting involved with lots of projects and running myself ragged in the hope that I will get to where I want to be?
I think so.

But it is a tough balance, and on the days where I have to pay my rent, and phone bill, and internet and buy my Transport for the month and still try to budget for food and entertainment… well on those days I think about just taking a day job.
And then I remember that this my life and I only get one shot at it, so I better make the most of it…yada yada cliché, read them in Morgan Freemans voice. So I hoick up my falling down ratty old jeans, eat my stir fry for the fourth day in a row and keep going.

Because one day Money and Dreams might just go hand in hand.

The Next Five Years

“Life is what happens to you when you are busy making other plans” is something my father has been known to say on occasion, but which google reveals to be a John Lennon quote/song lyric. Never is that saying truer than it is for the month of February, which at 28 days most years, goes by in a flash. Here we are March 1st and I’m thinking, we should probably take down the Christmas tree.

My Mum wrote a very funny blog earlier this week, about how she feels she is just hanging around in the waiting room of life. She’s 43 years old and all her children have fled the nest, and she’s not sure what the next twenty years will look like. Well funny that, none of us do.

A day after reading her blog, a package I sent myself six weeks ago arrived. During the Christmas break back in Hong Kong, I spent some time going through some of my old stuff that has accumulated in my mothers tiny apartment. I found my old school blazer (which was gigantic on me in year 12 and now sits the way my work blazers sit…ever an indication of aging and thickening) old programs from Musicals I was in, and I found precious newspaper pages on which I featured.

When I was 15 and living in Hong Kong there was a section of the South China Morning post called “The Young Post” and for a period of time they had different groups of kids (I think they started with 9) come in, photograph them in a couple of different poses, and then send then get them to respond to certain questions. The idea was that you would vote one kid out of the young post every week.

I only lasted 3 weeks or so. My downfall week, the question was “tell us a joke”. My parents had a thick book of politically incorrect jokes that used to sit in our bathroom (wildly inappropriate for children, but hey, I learned a lot about sex and sexual interaction from that novel!) Now, I know what you are thinking, I went ahead and did the one about the Nun and the Irishman. WRONG. Because somewhere in the back of my rude-joke-packed-mind I realized that these jokes were hilarious but also WILDLY inappropriate for the young post, I looked up online, “politically correct, lame jokes,” and came up with the following, which I used as my answer:
“What’s brown and sticky? A Stick!”

I was eliminated. Well Fuck.

But that isn’t where our story ends today. The question before the one that ended my career as Supreme Young Person of Hong Kong 2004, was “Where do you see yourself in 15 years?” And I answered the following:

“Wow! I’ll be 30! Well I hope to be working in a creative Job, maybe Acting because that is something I have always loved, living in some far away exotic place, with some really hot guy.”

Well.

This year I will be 25 and that means it has been ten years since I wrote that.

Let’s check in.

I am certainly living in some faraway place; Toronto is NOT exactly close to Hong Kong, and I’m not sure what I would have defined as exotic back then, having lived the majority of my life in Asia at that point. Compared to the busy, loud, crazy city that I consider my home…snow covered everything is pretty exotic. Eh?

As for the job…at this point I’d take any job as the endless weeks of Temping blur into one another and my sent inbox fills with more and more desperate and unanswered emails, (I’m totally kidding, I’m still working towards the creative thing and have actually had a couple of non-creative job offers suggested to me, which I have politely turned down. I didn’t bust my ass being poor and interning for the last 6 months to give up and take yet another Admin job which pays the bills, but kills my soul.)

And as for the really hot guy thing, let’s not even go there. You don’t want to hear me gush about Canuck boyfriend and he’d probably de-friend me if I did. But I think I’m on-track with that one.

But the next five years is going to be pretty huge I’m guessing. There is obviously no way of knowing (because 2 years ago I would have never thought I’d be where I am today), but the one thing I do know is that life is an ever changing thing. You can never get too comfortable with the way things are, for better or worse, and it’s always for the better in my opinion.
I find it interesting that my Mother feels rutted in her life when she is still in the prime of it. I get it that the hands on child-rearing faze of her life has fizzled, but she never gets to stop being our mother (sucks to be you) and she never gets to stop being a part of her already fairly eccentric family. Maybe that’s her problem (and I suffer from it to) there are days when things just seem too calm and normal.

And that is freaky.
The good news is that she has the next generation to look forward to. Maybe not in the next five years, but, thanks to stupid biology, certainly in the next 15. And she’s already threatened to be the grandmother that feeds the grandkids sugar and lets them stay up late and gives them money to sneak out to concerts and will generally be considered “cool” and therefore loved more than me. Stupid ungrateful unborn, un-conceived children.

I guess we’ll just have to see where we’re at, twenty years from now.

Things that I hate that are actually really good for me

Celery

Celery is one of those ingredients that is in everything. Oh you wanted to make a stock? Celery. Oh you’re making a delicious soup? Celery. Cooking something that doesn’t seem like it would contain Celery? Celery. When it’s hidden in things like soups and stock, fine, but don’t go putting Celery in my Chicken Cashew nut. I can see it! It’s sitting right there! And I am not a fan. My dad used to cut up celery and put peanut butter on it. I feel like he called them Peanut butter floats or something like that. And even with a cute nickname I still wasn’t buying it (but then, I’m pretty sure my favourite word was just NO as a child, straight off the bat.) It’s a shame I haven’t made friends with this vegetable that tastes and feels like eating crunchy green snails because Celery is rich in Vitamin C and contains Potassium and Folic acid. It’s also rumoured to burn more calories eating celery than the beast vegetable actually contains itself.

Chamomile Tea

I associate the taste of Chamomile Tea with throwing up, thanks to a nasty experience in High School when I had a 24 hour puking virus and I slept at my friend Annies place and her mum offered me Chamomile tea in the morning to settle my stomach and I threw it up five minutes after I ingested it. It is a shame that I hate this because Chamomile tea seems to have antibacterial properties (probably why people think to drink it when they are sick) and also seems to help with menstrual cramps. One study found that drinking chamomile tea raised urine levels of glycine, a compound that calms muscle spasms. Researchers believe this is why chamomile tea helps menstrual cramps.

Milk

I’ll drink Chocolate milk by the gallon but I am SO not drinking plain milk. Plain milk on some kind of sugary cereal, fine. Milk in Earl Gray Tea, duh, what am I? A barbarian? Milk in recipes, yes yes of course. But not by itself. Yuck yuck yuckity yick. NOthankyouverymuch. Saying Milk is good for you is a bit like saying that cigarettes are bad for you. Everybody knows that Milk and dairy products are providers of calcium, phosphorous, magnesium and protein which are all essential for healthy bone growth and development. But what you maybe didn’t know is that studies have linked milk and dairy consumption with a reduced risk for cardiovascular disease, and other studies (who are these people studying Milk, don’t they have lives to get on with? Perfect Milk free lives?!?) suggest that regular consumption of low fat dairy products can help to reduce the risk of type 2 diabetes.

Onion

I hate this vegetable. When I was in year 12 and it was the night before my first HSC exam, my Mum took me to a steak restaurant and I ordered a steak which sounded delicious. It came topped with a huge pile of onions. I merely put my head down on the table and started to sob. I thought it was a sign my life was over and I would fail my exams. Thats how much I hate these. Which is a shame because Onions have many healthy properties. Raw onion encourages the production of good cholestoral which helps your heart and A powerful compound called quercetin in onions is known to play a significant role in preventing cancer.

Lamb

This is pretty blasphemous to admit as an Australian, but I don’t like lamb (to be fair, growing up in Asia, I didn’t have so much access to this meat, we mostly had pork and chicken). Some people slobber over the idea of Lamb Shank or cutlets, but I’d rather not. I wouldn’t order it for myself and it’s very rare that I eat it now in my grown up life. That is not to say that I’ve had all bad experiences, but for the most part Meh. Apparently Lamb is good for health conscious people, as it is a source of ‘good fat’ in the body and has less saturated fat than other meat products. Nah. I’ll just take my fatty fat thanks.

Temping, Prositution of the Corporate world

Temping:

temp [tɛmp] Informal
n
a person, esp a typist or other office worker, employed on a temporary basis
vb (intr)
to work as a temp

Turns out Temping is better paid than retail (not by much, but enough for me to go buy those Croc boots which I swear aren’t ugly, just give me a chance to show you) and because I continue to be ignored by the world of Full Time work in an industry that I am dying to work in, I decided to give Temping a go. Since the beginning of the month I have taken on four different assignments, 2 x 1 day assignments, 2 x 1 week assignments, and learned about a whole new world that I never knew existed.

The world of the Temp.

Let me give you a little run down.

The world of the Temp is a place ungoverned by your average 9-5. You wake up at 7.30am with the hope that at 8am, someone (Pimp) will call you and tell you they need you at XYZ location, and the dress code is *blank*. You slap on some make-up, make sure you vaugely know where you are going and sprint out the door. On the train you wonder again what you are doing with your life, but the other part of your brain says “this is the last job, I promise you. We’ll get the money and then move to Florida.” You get to the destination, you make small talk, find out what the client (John) likes and what they need. You settle down, close your eyes, and daydream you are somewhere else (like at a real job). When it’s all over, they thank you plenty of times, and you shuffle out clutching your time sheet. You buy yourself a couple of drinks to try to forget the disappointment in your mothers eyes.

Temping is the Prostitution of the corporate world.

But you know what? I don’t hate it.

My first two assignments were in Film and Television production companies, and you bet your Chihuahua’s left nut that I worked it like I was on the sinking Titanic and had to get my third-class ass on a lifeboat. The one day gig was a bit of a bust, it was a monday and quiet as hell, but the week long gig yielded fun, a bit of professional networking with an awesome Aussie guy who took my resume and some new surprising friendships with girls my own age who worked in the company. Turns out some of them had been in the same boat as me and some of them even got their jobs after temping first.

Actually, when I started to look into it, Temping seemed to be one of the ways a bunch of people I know got their full-time jobs. They’d go for an assignment and the company would say, you know what, why don’t you stay on, or, why don’t you give us your resume to take a look at. It was kind of like a pre-interview. And hell with the number of resumes and cover letters I have sent off, any chance of getting into ANY company as more than just a name on a piece of paper is a big bonus.

So why did I always think there was such a stigma attached to Temping? I couldn’t even tell you. Maybe there is, but now that I’ve joined the ranks I just don’t care. The job market is so tough out there, and lots of people who want to do what I want to do are stuck in menial jobs, frittering away their youth and talent.

I’d rather wake up each day with the fresh and exciting opportunity of meeting someone that may assist with opening a career door for me, than be marking down sweaters for the third time this week.

End Rant

Animals I would be better at being than a human

7. An Elephant
Because: Elephants are wise and big and nobody can really fuck with them (except evil poachers). They have great family lives (have you SEEN the footage of the baby elephant being reunited with its mum? TEAR JERKER!) I love Elephants so much. They are great. No more explanation needed.

6. A Dog
Because: Dogs are great and terribly excitable things. The dog downstairs is annoying me right now by crying its little heart out (they are crate training him) but literally everything in this dogs life is the best and most exciting thing ever. Toy?! THE BEST! Go outside for a pee? THE BEST! Annoy the cat?!? THE BEST. You get the idea. I’d love to have that level of energy to be honest. And to be so generally joyful and optimistic

5. An Eagle
Because: A) I would like to fly and B) I would like to be considered deadly (I think we can safely assume small critters are bat-shit-terrified of Eagles). But mainly the flying thing. Also if I was an American eagle that would be cool because I’d be American (and could therefore just go and live in New York…although I suppose I wouldn’t want to if I was an eagle) and also because then I’d be all revered and stuff. And lets be honest…who doesn’t want that?

4. A Tiger
Because: DUH. Tigers are epic. If you don’t think Tigers are cool, you are probably just some bitter creature that is afraid of being eaten. Or had a relative eaten. Not only are Tigers gloriously beautiful, they are aggressive cranky beasts that people fear and respect (which I would be okay with) and they can pretty much do whatever they want. Oh you’re in a jungle? That’s okay, you are the scariest thing out there (Except monkeys if there are some in the jungle where you are. But I am biased. I just don’t like monkeys) and you can do what you want.

3. A Pig
Because: Pigs seem like very happy creatures. Lets move away from the sadness of the fact that pigs become bacon (which I love) and the hilarity of this as my third choice considering I am now dating my lovely Jewish boyfriend (who is so not kosher) and focus instead on how awesome pigs are. They are pretty awesome! They are cute and squeaky and they get to roll around in mud a lot (duh, funnest thing ever). Pigs are smart and funny, two things I try to be in my daily life, but wouldn’t it be cooler if I was smart and funny AND a pig. Yes I think so.

Side Note: When I was in year 11 I was a prefect and we went on a leadership training week in Thailand at a ridiculously amazing boarding school in Chang Mai. We did fancy seminars and bonding sessions. During one seminar, I will never forget the exercise where we had to describe the person on our left as an animal. To my right was Graham, a chinese guy (don’t forget I went to School in Hong Kong, and although it was the Australian International School of Hong Kong, we had a lot of Hong Kong, first language Cantonese students) who was very sweet and who I was friends with. You had to stand up in front of everyone and say why you thought this person was like the animal you had chosen. Graham stood up and told everyone (in his not perfect english) that I most reminded him of a pig. Cue snorts from all the western kids, and a mortified look from me. Graham went on to describe the pig as it is depicted in the Chinese Astrology world, something along these lines (I just hit up google)

Pigs are models of sincerity, purity, tolerance, and honor. When you first meet them, Pigs seem too good to be true. They are careful and caring, obliging and chivalrous. Put your trust in him, he won’t let you down and he will never try to. The Pigs simply want to do everything right.

Pigs are the people everyone admires most.

It was sweet, but I’ll never forget that awkward first moment, before the culture clash became so obvious.

2. A Dolphin
Because: Dolphins are the class clown of the sea. Everybody loves them! (Except the Japanese who maybe love them too much in a rough way, like when a little kid pats its pet too hard…oh no wait, whales, I’m thinking whales. My bad). Dolphins are badass. They can do tricks, they’re smart…they’re one of the only animals I know of, apart from humans, that participate in gang-rape (…wow this bit got a bit depressing) um…getting back on track. Dolphins are cool. They get to swim all the time (I’m down for that) and they make cute squeaking noises all the time which are adorable. How come whenever I talk too much people don’t make awwww faces at me?

1. A Cat.
Because? My two favourite things are lying stretched out in the sun and looking adorable. If I was a cat I could post so many videos of myself online and get all the youtube love (and hate, but those youtube trolls are never really that mean to cats). I could also get really fat and still be cute. Okay I think I’d get over shitting in a box pretty quickly, but hey, I’ve seen cats (on youtube) using a toilet. I’ve also seen cats using forks, playing the keyboard and talking. I think this could really work out for me lifestyle-wise.

Have you caught onto the trend I just realized? I basically want to be either powerful and feared, or cute and adorable.

Huh. Well there you go. I don’t need to waste money on therapy. I have myself all figured out!

Winterizing my Life

Living through a Canadian winter changes everything you thought you knew about winter.

Trust me.

It’s fucked.

Not only have you never been so cold in your life, but you’ve also never felt like such a pussy about never having been so cold in your life. The first time the temperature dropped into the minus digits, I literally put on every piece of long covering clothing I possessed. I was more layered up than seven fruit roll ups and I was STILL shivering.

What did my Canadian boyfriend wear that day?

A t-shirt, jeans and a light jacket.

It was -5 degrees and I thought I was going to die. My skin ached in the exposed bits, and I was so cold I felt like my bone marrow was freezing. And then it went down to -15.

Now, people from further North, or Montreal, will tell you that -15 aint nothing to write home about. It’s when it gets to -30 that you got to start worrying.

MINUS….30 Degrees…CELSIUS…

Doesn’t the thermometer stop working at -20!? How is -30 a thing? How can we go negative times 30 of the freezing temperature of things??!

CANada Can.

I’ll never forget having a chat to the Mother of a friend of mine. Lovely Mrs Deck from Red Deer, Alberta, an all Canadian little place that looks a little something like this:

Mrs Deck is an avid running enthusiast, and when I began asking her if she continued to run outside during the winter she replied, “Oh yes. You have to wear a balaclava and gloves, but it certainly is nice to get oot and aboot.”

Okay fine she didn’t really say oot and aboot, she said it was nice to get OUTSIDE. But the point is the same. They’re nuts. The whole country.

And you start to become more nuts the more winter days you live through.

For example, last week when it was 1 degree, I asked myself, “do I really need a scarf?”

You start to think it’s normal to walk past huge piles of white (or dirty brown depending on how many days its been there) snow and not scream with delight and jump in it.

You think it’s normal to bring an extra pair of shoes with you to work (you know, snow shoes for the outside and nice clean dry shoes for the inside.)

It takes you 5 minutes to get up from a meal before you exit the establishment (because you have to put on hats, gloves, scarf, winter jacket…)

You minimize any and all walking outside unless it is strictly necessary and all activities move indoors.

When it’s above zero, you start referring to the weather as “warm”.

I’m not going to lie, I love the snow (always have always will) and after building two snowmen over the weekend, going sledding in a park, and having my very first snowball fight, I can safely say there are some perks to living in the “great white north”…

But I will never accept that -30 is a temperature in which humans are supposed to live.

Except Eskimo’s…

Those guys are CRAY

The Schmoliday Season

I like everything about the end of the year. There are the pretty things like lights and Christmas trees, and cute presents to buy with shiny wrapping paper to conceal their goodness. There are gingerbread houses to decorate and ice rinks to skate on, there are fat red-faced men in Red-fur trimmed suits to sit on. And there are thousands upon thousands of calories to consume. Eggnog, Fruitcake, Christmas themed Macaroons and cakes and cookies (go on…its the holiday season!) anything that is delicious and fattening is in bountiful supply. And everyone is encouraging you to gorge yourself.

Eggs Memphis, Insomnia (Toronto), Eggs, Hollandaise sauce, Chipotle Home fries, pulled pork, Peameal Bacon

I have no problem with this at all.

Hey, I have stretchy pants usually reserved for that fun week also known as Shark Week, or when the painters and decorators are in, also known as “the week my girlfriend turned into a crazy person” or “HELP! HELP ME GOD!”, and I have no problem wearing them every day as my gut seems to grow and grow and I can’t see my feet any more. And i’m not really all that bothered by the fact that I can’t remember the last time I ate a vegetable (although I can guestimate- it’s recently been one tooth falling out every week or so.)

No no no. The holidays are a spend-a-rama time and I am buying into it whole heartedly despite the apparent lack of money and the fact that I’m still working retail and getting paid Canadian minimum wage.

I have a problem with the fact that Holiday season feeling doesn’t happen all year.

Okay, yes, obesity is on the rise, and I am single-handedly drawing up the curve. BUT, maybe if we had this joyous celebration of family and love and life all year, I would take my gut-stuffing in moderation and would spread it out a bit. (Not spread myself out a bit, that is already happening horizontally).

I have purchased so many delicious Canadian treats to take home to my family in Hong Kong (and to send to Australia). I could have purchased these treats at any time, but the magic of christmas imbues them with extra deliciousness.

I’m not making this up!

Even our pet hedgehog is eating his food with more gusto.

I plan to eat as much as I can and get as gross and disgusting as I can before December 31st when i’ll weep into my pillowy arms and make New Years resolutions to lose so much weight and get a paid job in an industry that doesn’t make me want to buy a nail gun and shoot it into my brain.

 

 

Pick a fight, any fight

Yesterday I had a conversation with someone who described me as Confrontational and always looking for a fight, someone who is always ready to stress about something.

Now this person actually likes me (apparently), and that hurt my feelings. They didn’t say it to be hurtful, and they were surprised that I had never thought of myself that way (Oh GREAT, now I’m so totally un-self-aware too?)

My family has described me in the past as someone who needs a project or some kind of thing to obsess over (my Mother has used an analogy of one of those Meccano cars…build it up, tamper with it, break it and have to fix it again. An interesting and disturbing analogy when you look at my life and relationships.)

But someone who is Confrontational? When I think of that word to describe someone, I think of a Jersey Shore character getting up in the face of some bouncer because he won’t let her skanky ass into a club. Of some tattooed guy roided up who stalks the streets waiting to get into a rumble.

Dictionary.com describes confrontational as:

con·fron·ta·tion·al

 [kon-fruh n-tey-shuh-nl, -fruhn-] Show IPA

adjective

tending toward or ready for confrontation: They came to the meeting with a confrontational attitude.

Do I think of myself like that? No. Do I go out to seek confrontation with people? Walk around with a confrontational attitude? No. I’m not the guy in the lift my friend Bryanne and I had to deal with last week (possibly high on some kind of scary drug, took a step into our personal space and eyeballed us because we looked at him weird? and then he shoulder-charged the guy waiting to get into the elevator ready to get physical.) I’m not in waiting to start drama.

Yes, I have a low tolerance for stupid people of which I have met a few in my time. And yes I will verbally pick them apart at the end of a day if they got under my skin (they don’t always, there is a certain amount of stupidity and general difference of upbringing/culture you can write off). That’s how I de-stress. I’m not holding a long list in my mind of people I hate, snarling and cackling and leering at my list with cold-hearted joy. I’m not out there shaking my grizzly witches hand in their face telling them how I feel. I’m letting out frustration so that I don’t punch them in the face when I see them the next time (don’t act like you’ve never wanted to punch someone you know in the face really hard with no explanation). It’s about venting, and then moving forward.

I’m sure there are things I do or say that irritate people, and I’m sure behind closed doors, those things are held up to the light and discussed. And I don’t really care. That is human nature, is it not? To discuss and shape with language and understanding the world around you?

If I thought someone had gotten totally the wrong impression of me, then I might be upset about it, because I actually do love people and try to be a good person. Those that know me know that I am a loyal and staunch friend. Sure I have my special brand of insanity, but we all do. Even the quiet ones (actually I hear those are the ones to watch).

I approach life with the attitude that when I meet someone they are a potential friend and they get 100 points on my scale. That doesn’t change unless they do something that makes me think otherwise. I know that there are a lot of people out there who come at life and friendships from the other direction, everyone starts at zero until they do something to prove otherwise.

Maybe my way seems like a glass half empty kind of approach, with negative points added to my opinion rather than the other way around. But as a result of this level playing field I have adopted when meeting people, I have been described as warm, generous and welcoming. I generally hit it off with people quickly, and even if it’s not love at first sight, there lingers an appreciation for the effort I put in to be nice to everybody. There have only been a couple of instances in my life where there has been an immediate negative reaction from me towards other people, and I can honestly say that in those cases there has been underlying issues on the other persons behalf.

This person has an intense infatuation with the person you are dating and views you as an obstacle to their happiness, that person isn’t interested in making new friends and snubs you immediately, another person has heard all about you and has made up their mind before you have even met.

We’re human.

I get it.

But as someone who has moved around a lot and found herself to be the new kid more times than not, my attitude has always been to welcome new people into my life. Sure, you won’t be best friends with everyone, but that doesn’t stop you from being present and pleasant in whatever social situation you find yourself in.

So back to being confrontational…

I actually hate confrontation. On the verge of it, my heart pounds really fast and my stomach shrinks. Don’t get me wrong, natures adrenalin pumps through me if it has to, but I could count on one hand the confrontations I have had in the last six months. 3 of them have to do with the recent visa issue and one was recently at a concert when a middle-aged woman told me to:

“Fuck off and go back to Yorkville” at a concert when she threw herself in front of me and stomped on my friends toes. She was clearly high on coke. We were at an Australian band’s concert and she was suggesting (with her insult) that we were petulant rich girls from the swankiest area in Toronto. I told her I was from Australia actually, and had known the band from my university days so she should watch her manners. She flipped me the finger and said “welcome to Canada”. I didn’t stop shaking until we were at the subway station.

What a wuss.

I spent a significant amount of hours watching the sixth and seventh season of ‘Keeping up with the Kardashians’ yesterday with my friend Kate, and while both of us felt our brain cells dying, it was interesting to watch the drama and confrontation that unfolded in each episode. I worked on a reality TV series, so I know how much of each issue was manufactured. No normal person can live at a height of intense drama and conflict, not like that, not really.

I also have been thinking about Kim Kardashian since I was told I was confrontational. KK is extremely loud and drama swirls around her life. That is what she is famous for (along with a GIGANTIC ROUND ass and a sex tape she made years ago (I think, who can even remember?)) and people still love her (even if you love to hate). People think she’s beautiful and she is worth millions of dollars.

So…….

What am I trying to say?

At least my life aint boring?

Well MAYBE.

End Rant

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.

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)