Top 3 Things to do in the Top 3 Cities I have lived in

When Thinking about the Top 3 things to do in the Top 3 Cities I have lived in, it is interesting to note that mostly the pattern seems to be enjoying the natural beauty of the places I have lived, shopping… and eating! I guess that probably says more about me than what the top 3 things actually are!

Sydney:

Walk across the Sydney Harbour Bridge

Sydney has one of the most amazing harbours in the world (in my humble opinion) and walking across the bridge (i’m talking about at road level, not even climbing over it as you can do) at any time of the year is amazing and makes you realize how beautiful the world really is. I once walked over it with my brother in the spring, and the whole North Shore side was purple with blooming Jacaranda flowers. I’ve walked across it when the weather was foul and rainy (I felt like I was in a music video the whole time) and I’ve walked across it at sunrise and sunset. If you’re in Sydney, do yourself a favour this week and do this.

Paddington Markets

I miss the Paddington Area with it’s cute cafes and funky restaurants, sun-dappled side streets and big glorious townhouses. But what I miss the most is Paddington Markets with their blend of laid-back boho style clothing, intermingled with weird art and cool foods. I would spend many a luxurious day wandering around this market, sipping hot chocolate, enjoying the sunshine.

Bondi Beach

Since moving to Canada, the one thing I can TRULY say that I miss (aside from friends and family of course) is the Ocean and the beach. There is something so cleansing and cathartic about walking along a strip of sand, staring out into the vastness of sky beyond the curve of the coast. Bondi beach is supposed to be all touristy now, and there are pictures of the sand covered end to end in white pasty bodies, but regardless, Bondi is the beach I love. It is close to the city and the suburb of Bondi has a great feel.

Toronto

Queen Street West

Whenever I’m feeling down, I like to walk through Trinity Bellwoods park and along Queen Street West. This happening hood has treats and gorgeous stores galore. Simply getting out amongst these trendy stores makes you feel like your life is cooler than it is. Grab yourself a Macaroon, pick a table at one of the many adorable cafes and take the time to watch the world go by. I’m never disappointed by the plethora of interesting characters strolling by, ripe fodder for creative stimulation.

Toronto Island

Toronto Island is possibly one of the most luscious gorgeous places I have ever been to. It is located in the lake Toronto borders and is a short ferry ride away. I’ll never forget jetting over there for the first time with my two friends both named Alex. It was a hot, fresh Toronto summer day and as we pulled away from the city we got a wonderful view of the whole Toronto skyline (a visually interesting city). When we got to the island we biked, we paddled our feet in the water and ate ice cream on the long cool grass. Definitely a must-do for picnics in Toronto.

Kensington Market

Kensington Market

Kensington Market is smack bang beside Chinatown (so I obviously found it pretty quickly). It is a hodgepodge of cheese stores, cafes, vintage clothing sellers, art stores, random ethnic spice stores and little tiny tucked away bars. At night the scene can be a little bit dodgy, but during the day and on the weekends, this place is hopping with music and creativity. Plenty of places to chill out and enjoy so more people watching.

Hong Kong

The Peak

Hong Kong is a highly populated city that certainly knows how to cram a lot of people into a small space. Despite this fact, there are places you can go to get some peace and quiet and Victoria Peak is one of them. Sure, there are often plenty of tourists stuffed into the mall that the Peak Tram drops you off at, but when you walk around the top of the Peak, you are treated to spectacular views of this island metropolis. Like the photo I have chosen, I like to go at night to see all the buildings light up. Truly a stunning sight to see.

The Markets

The Markets

Hong Kong is synonymous with shopping and by-god there is shopping to be had. Whether you head to the Mong Kok Markets, Temple Street Markets at Yau Ma Tai, Bird Market at Prince Edward, Sneaker street, The Lanes in Central, Wanchai markets… I could go on. Pretty much in every district is a side street where wheeling and dealing is taking place. Food, electronics, clothing, jewellery, you name it, it is there and it is overwhelming. Hold onto your wallet!

Dim Sum/Yum Cha

For those that know me at all, the knowledge that I LOVE Dim Sum is something so totally obvious as to be startlingly stupid. I could eat Dim Sum evert weekend (and pretty much have since moving to Toronto I think!) If you ask me if I want to do brunch on Sunday, this is probably where I want to go. And Dim Sum in Hong Kong is obviously the best in the world. Fresh, delicious and totally cheap, I’m probably going to turn INTO a dim sum dish because of how much I eat it. My Dim Sum recommendations for Hong Kong are pretty general because I will eat it anywhere and everywhere. Sorry I can’t be more specific!

And there you have it, my Top 3 things to do in my top 3 cities (so far!)

Sydney, Toronto and Hong Kong. Three pretty diverse places to live, but all offering awesome ways to spend this precious time we have called life.

ENJOY!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Well at least life is interesting

Sometimes I forget that not everyone travels around and lives in different places as easily as I do. I don’t feel particularly different from the people I meet, and I try to live in the moment as much as possible. I have been living in Toronto for almost 2 years (June 12 is my 2 year Anniversary with Canada) and I guess at this point I’m surprised when people think its neat that I am from Australia.

Oh yeaaaah, I’m from Australia. Right.

People is People, as they say (in the muppets 1984) and to be honest, I forget you are all Canadian.

Buuuuut…eesh…awkward…I’m not really from Australia, because I’ve now lived more years overseas than I ever did in the land of my Parents and Grandparents (cheers for the sweet passport). There are days when I miss Sydney like crazy, but I realize it’s the people and the time that it represented that I miss the most (Uni days with the best girlfriends and guyfriends in the world). Okay I miss the Harbour Bridge and King street Newtown, the Beaches and Paddington, but the great thing about my little Navy Passport with the Kangaroo and Emu on it, is that I can go back any time.

And I honestly feel like I COULD just slot back in there. Familiar streets, familiar faces.

Anyone that knows me well knows that I secretly FREAK out when it comes to change, but they also know that I am constantly making myself do weird things and change-it-up because I am like two people sharing the same personality. One, a quiet homebody type who doesn’t really want to rock the boat and wants to live a quiet, friendly, calm, stable life, and the other a crazy, Adventurous, eccentric type who says “f^%$ you, I do what WANT!” And moves to the otherside of the world with no warning.

Like on April 3rd 2013.

On April 3rd 2013 I’m going home to Hong Kong for 7 weeks to work as an Assistant Stage Manager on a rather huge production, home to the land of my High School friends, my mother, and our Irritating but adorable Cat Guinness.

Guinness the Cat

The homebody me at first dismissed the idea of going:

Homebody Me: What about the opportunities here you may miss out on? What about your room, you’ll have to find a sublet, what about…what about…what about…

But luckily for me, my eccentric side listened to the many naggings on my mother, and simply decided, “screw this, I’m going”…and booked a ticket, confident that the rest would just fall into place. (Which it always does)

And with each day that passes since I simply made up my mind to go, I’m getting more and more excited. Because the Adventurous me gets nervous when things are a bit too quiet, and what seems more fun? Temping and doing Volunteer TV stuff, or going to Asia and working on a West End like production? If the universe unfolds as it should, and with the Job market such a dogs breakfast over here…maybe I was meant to take this opportunity all along?

With my new 2 year Canadian work visa up for renewal, and the idea that I will continue to live in Toronto for the next two years, the homebody part of me is somewhat satisfied that there is stability on the horizon.

And the adventurous part of me is PSYCHED to learn some new things, meet some new people, reconnect with old friends, and generally spend some time deviating from the norm some more.

I am an Australian born, Asia Bred girl of 24 who lives in Canada.

Got all that? Good.

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.

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

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

You don’t get it…I’m an ArTIsTe

Pursuing any kind of career is hard (unless you’re Bruce Wayne). Because of my interesting life, I know many interesting people (yay ME) from all industries scattered across the globe. Some of my best friends are medical-types, educators, health-related people, business savvy wizards, nine to fivers and of course creative types.

Each industry has its ladder to climb and no ladder is less challenging than any other.

But sometimes I wonder, if the Arts industry actually has a ladder? Maybe its more of greased up lightning rod you’re trying to climb? Or maybe where the ladder is supposed to be, there’s actually just an empty space with an artwork tag that says “Ladder” and four creative types (one in tattered jeans and some kind of slouchy headwear) are standing around describing how “post modern” and “eclectic” the ladder is. And just like in the Emperors new clothes you nod and agree and leap in the space it theoretically should be, only to fall flat on your face.

Are we still following?

Good. Lets move on.

I’ve had some experience trying to get a foothold on that elusive ladder…probably I’ve had more experience discussing how I should probably try and look for that ladder. Bitching about not being an academy award winning screenplay writer when I haven’t written a screenplay since 2010, and wondering why there are people younger than me who are more famous.

It’s a tough industry. I know a lot of talented creative people who gave up on their dreams to try for different careers. I know many creative people struggling to make what they love a priority and a full time gig, while busting their arses doing something else to pay the bills.

My Mother is a perfect example of someone in the latter category. Two nights ago she opened her new Directorial offering “My Big Gay Italian Wedding” which is completely sold out and pretty much was when the tickets first went on sale. She has had rave reviews and write ups. She is a Theatre DAHHLING in Hong Kong, and yet she, and her extremely talented cast and crew, are doing the play more for love than any other reason. There just isn’t money in it.

For the amount of time (and talent) that these men and women poor into a project, it would be nice to think that they could make the leap from teachers and bankers and general managers (who act and sing and direct on the side) to full-blown Artists or Creatives or whatever you want to call yourself.

But the truth is, that funding in the arts and for creative enterprises is limited no matter where you go. Part of the reason I didn’t go back to Australia, and have decided to stay in North America, is the possibility and opportunities here. I was fortunate enough to work on a TV show when I was finishing my masters in Sydney, however the opportunity of a second season for that show dried up because of the way the Television industry operates down there. It is simply too expensive to make home-grown products. Most episodes and series are imported from the states as it is cheaper.

Lots of my young, energetic creative friends have moved to LA or New York to try and break into industries there where the market is bigger. And what a shame that they do. The UK, Australia, Hong Kong…these countries are losing some great talent to places that seem like Creative Mecca’s.

That’s not to say that there aren’t people battling it out on home ground, doing what they love, trying to see what happens. Some guys I worked with on the previously mentioned TV show, used crowd-funding to get some cash together to make a reality of a creative project of theirs “The Weatherman”  which is going ahead in the next few months. But I know that for them it has been an uphill battle. I read some of their scripts while we would wait around like goons, and it is really funny, great stuff. Why shouldn’t it be made? And why shouldn’t they reap the benefits?

The Arts and Entertainment industry is often hard because it’s so competitive. It seems as though people are sometimes reluctant to help one another get that crucial foot in the door. It seems like once you’re in, you’re in, but that door is like the room of requirement at Hogwarts. You have to chant and chant what you want and hope that it materializes.

There is an element of being in the right place at the right time, of knowing the right people, of working hard, but for some it isn’t that easy. It is a difficult struggle to keep going, keep interning, keep writing, keep putting on shows, trekking to auditions practising, learning, all while trying to live everyday.

SO what am I getting at?

I guess I’m saying we all need to support the arts more. Go to plays, see up-and-coming bands, read each others work and give encouragement and feedback. And I guess I’m trying to say, keep going. If you are a creative person and thats what you want to do with your life, then go for it. Maybe things won’t turn out exactly as planned…Hey! That’s life and its a part of the journey, but Mama says:

If you always do what you’ve always done, then you’ll always get what you’ve always gotten.

So stick that up your ladder and deal with it!

Paris

Bloor West Gems, Toronto

 

Sometimes when I’m not interning at Rogers TV (love it) or working a retail job to support my fat ass while I’m interning at Rogers TV (hate it) or thinking of deep and meaningful, slightly angsty blog posts to write, I actually go about my days and enjoy the cool things that Toronto has to offer.

My Toronto neighbourhood is Bloor West (specifically Bloor and Ossington) which is a pretty cool little area that has quiet suburban streets (like the one I live on) surrounded by hipstery hang-outs, random restaurants and some pretty awesome little Gems.

Here is a list of the Bloor West Toronto Gems as per my perspective.

Nazareths Ethiopian Restaurant.

At one point or another, Canuck boyfriend and I decided to try some of the local eateries in my area. After jumping on Urban Spoon, we discovered that the poky little dark restaurant/bar that always has a line out the front of it, is in fact Toronto’s best Ethiopian Restaurant. We made the usual jokes at first, like, what will they serve? Air and bark? (Awful, ignorant, etc etc I know) But turns out Ethiopian food is delicious and full of flavour. You eat with your hands and use the Injera – floppy citrusy type crepe bread – to scoop the goopy looking food into your mouth. I am struggling to compare what the food is like because it really is some of the most unique food I have ever tasted. If you go to Nazareth’s and there is at least two of you, I would recommend getting the Beef Tibs and the Vegetarian (the vegetarian is pictured on the right hand side of the green veggie divider line). If you are heading to this restaurant for dinner, GET THERE EARLY! The line up starts at 6/630 and sometimes the service is a little slow (the only drawback) so the wait can be loooooong especially if you are hungry! Oh and did I mention how cheap this place is?! The meal pictured here probably cost $22 including tax and that is PLENTY of food for two people. You could even share that between four (I have).

Bakerbots Bakery

Two Silly Aussies enjoying Ice-Cream Sammy’s, (L) Rosie (R) Me!

Possibly my favourite place in Toronto, this little Gem is one of the first places I take people who are visiting from out-of-town, or who are just unfamiliar with the area. I discovered this place when I kept seeing tonnes of smiling people exiting this little glass fronted cafe. Right beside the Ossington train station and run by the indie music loving Rosanne and with a host of characters who work in the place, including ones we have dubbed Smiley Stoner-Mcgee and Kiddie Kiddieson (a young enthusiastic kid that works there), this place has the best ice cream sandwiches in the ENTIRE world (or the bits I’ve seen of it anyway). They make the cookies and ice cream there and if you go there, you NEED to try the Burnt Toffee or Burnt Marshmallow with the Everything Cookie OR the Lemon Meringue Ice Cream with the Birthday Cookie. They have other delicious treats too like pies, macaroons and cupcakes, and they are ALL delicious, but seriously, go for the ice cream sandwiches, a half will set you back about $4 but it will be the best $4 you ever spent. I may have to go there myself this afternoon just because I made myself hungry by writing about this.

Saving Gigi

Today was actually my first experience at Saving Gigi and I am ashamed of that fact. Whenever I would tell people the area I lived in, their first response was always “Do you go to Saving Gigi ALL the time?!” and alas…my answer was no! But today I changed that! My delightful friend Kate and I went there for brunch and OH MAN! It was cool. It was cute. We felt like hipsters. It was a great brunch. I had the Brie and Pear Baguette with Toasted Walnuts and Honey, and Kate had the Big Brunch with eggs, tomatoes, potatoes (which were SO garlicky and yummy). It’s small place with LOTS of hipsters (seriously glad I wore my slouchy beanie (Canadians would call that a tuke) today, phewph, gotta fit in!) Saving Gigi also has lunch and dinnery type items and also serves booze (WIN!) and there is live music there. They have a huge record collection which they play and its just a really cool vibe. Lots of beautiful artsy type people sitting and staring out the windows typing nonchalantly on their MacBooks (note to self, take Macbook to Saving Gigi, write stuff, be cool, be beautiful, have mysterious air). But seriously, just such a cute place, and my brunch + hot chocolate was about $11.

Honest Ed’s

Okay this is straying a bit into Annex Territory, but I have to mention it in this blog post because I went there today and had my mind BLOWN. I have walked past Honest Ed’s a hundred times. It’s a bit hard to miss and I guess technically isn’t really a Gem either. But wow! That place is something else. If you need anything under the sun, chances are Honest Ed’s has it and for CHEAP! Going in there is actually a bit overwhelming, and I had only planned to stick my head in with my friend Kate, but we both ended up buying some candles, some food items, and some other random things! We also spent about half an hour in this maze of good deals and bargains.

According to my hastily done internet research, “Honest Ed’s was the first true bargain store” opened in 1948. Low prices appears to be their thing and it’s kind of tacky, game-showy “EVERYTHING MUST GO” feel is part of its charm.

Too much stuff to behold! Now I know how Aladdin felt in the cave of wonders!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Kate modelling the 25cent blazer she bought.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And those are pretty much my Gems for this Sunday. Toronto is the kind of place where every corner you turn, every street you go down, there is something cute and unique to discover. I definitely have my days where I wonder what the fuck I’m doing with my life, but really and truly, I’d probably be asking myself that question whether I was in Hong Kong, Sydney, Johannesburg, London, New York, Milan, Hamburg, Jamaica….(I’m just listing random places now)… so why not do it in the quirky and fun North American city of Toronto?

I’ll end this blog post with a picture I took in one of the fruit shops we stopped at today on our walk, to buy Bananas…

 Isn’t she cute? She was “helping” all the customers.

 

Happy Sunday/Monday everyone!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Paris

 

 

 

 

Love and Lost in Translation

Ever since my first kiss at the age of fourteen, there has been a noticeable trend in the boys I have harassed. To say that they were all Asian would be to be forgetting Rick, my boyfriend of three weeks in Year 10 who was actually Canadian, Adam, who was half, David who was a quarter, Roger who was old-school Hong Kong British and of course, current Boyfriend Jered who is totally Canadian (thank god, says my slightly (and by slightly I mean occasionally and surprisingly) racist 88 year old grandmother who has never made it a secret that she’d like the shade of her great-grandchildren’s skin to be on the white side. – I’m not sure that my Dad has told her she has two homosexual grandsons and that Jer is Canadian AND Jewish, because really…what is she going to do with that information?)

“When I was your age, the Black people had to sit at the back of the Bus!” – My Grandmother, 2005.

Isn’t it surprising that racism and intolerance like that exists outside of people her generation? Although it is not totally forgivable in my  Grandmother (who, it has been pointed out to me, became very wealthy through her business dealings with the Japanese when my Grandfather owned a sporting goods store), she is an old lady who’s field of understanding and acceptance to new ideas has shrunk to the size of those god-awful ‘Current Affairs’ type programs that air in a specific time-slot to terrify little old men and women who go to bed at 6pm.

The idea that one might move to Asia with ones girlfriend (and subsequently wife), was, I’m sure, shocking to my Nana and Dah at the time that my parents did it (in the eighties). To have a new born there, let alone 3 and raise them all there seemed out-of-this-world, I am sure. Until a few years ago when one of my first cousins moved to the UK and my Dad’s cousin and his family moved to Singapore, my five person family unit was really the only one on my dads side that didn’t live in the Western Australian City of Perth.

But my rant today is not about my Grandmother, or the City of Perth (you’re alright Perth…look, you gave us the Wiggles!) but is instead about loving someone from another culture or country and the challenges that one may face.

It’s no great stretch to live in Canada as an Australian. SURE I feel like the popular kid at school because of everyone LOVES my accent (even though mines not so strong – must fake it to win friends) and yeah it IS pretty weird that I live on the opposite side of the world to that cute little island country who’s passport I posses, but really, there are lots of similarities between Aussies and Canucks and that is why they get along so well, and also why 99.5% of the population of Whistler is Aussie. We like you – you like us. It’s win-win.

So it’s weird when people think it’s weird that I live here. One of the first assumptions people make is that I moved here because of a boyfriend. When they find out about Jered, they nod their heads and go “ooooohhhhhh okay.” Like that’s the only reason for globalization and travel…to move your entire life from one side of the world to the next… for love. Hey! I’m not knocking it. One of my best friends is moving here in 7 days from the UK and one of the big factors is the love of her life that she has been long distance dating for two years. No big deal!

Just not my deal.

Don’t get me wrong, having a cool, hilarious boyfriend is a big plus on the Toronto experience. I won’t make your eyes turn to pus and melt by outlining exactly HOW cool and sweet and hilarious and adorable my boyf is, because, that’s just annoying when people do that, and that’s not why you came here. You came here for angry sweaty ranting, and that is what you shall have.

There have certainly been some strange moments between us as a couple. Probably the most surface issue is getting used to each others language and word usage.
J: Garbage
Me: Rubbish
J: Sweater
Me: Jumper
J: Ketchup
Me: Tomato Sauce (which always leads to the debate, “then what do you call Tomato sauce – like for pasta…Me: um…Pasta sauce?)

On these occasions I am left thinking of the scene in ‘Love Actually’ where dorky ‘Colin Frissel’ goes to Wisconsin and meets babes, and they all sit around laughing at each others pronunciation “Table!…oh its the same…”

But there is more to it for P+J than mere lol’s at language. J is Jewish, (as are most of my friends from my summer camp job) and as a result, I have been exposed to, and included in, lots of Jewish customs. I just had my 2nd Rosh Hashanah experience (which by the way – I still had to google to figure out how to spell).

I was TERRIFIED when Jered invited me this time last year. Okay, it was partly the idea that I would ruin the entire religious event by doing something embarrassing like…I don’t know…eating pork? (turns out J is more culturally than religiously Jewish and is actually an atheist and he loves bacon and all that jazz- phewph) and partly because I’d just started dating the guy and was suddenly going to meet his ENTIRE family (cousins, aunts, grandma et al). I spent quite some time researching online about apples and honey and stuff. I bought his Grandma some weird apple tea thing, and I think they thought it was really cute that I was trying.

The most frustrating thing for me over the last year was always feeling like a Class A moron when I didn’t know things that everyone around me just assumed I’d know. I had almost no religion in my life prior to being included in Jewish stuff, (although I did attend a Church of England Private School for four years when we lived in Sydney and had been to church on Easter) I had never been to a funeral before and never celebrated any holidays except for Easter (Chocolate eggs and the Easter Bunny!) Halloween (LOLLIES!) Christmas (PRESENTS AND SANTA!!) and New Years Eve (Booze and fireworks!)

So I had a lot of eye-opening learning experiences, like going to a Sedar (also had to google spelling) at passover and being presented with a plate of herbs and a bit of bone. (Jer..Jer.. do…we eat that stuff?) Or wishing everyone a Merry Christmas once before they all went on vacation…duuuuuurrrrp.

It hasn’t been a struggle, that’s not what I am getting at, but with a relationship where cultural exchange is involved, there is always going to be periods of adjustment, times where patience will be required, times where sensitivity must be employed. There are times where things are so different, you are coming from such different backgrounds of understanding, that the only thing you can do is laugh hysterically and move forward. And then you’ll find all the common ground you share and it will be a wonderment, that two people can grow up in such vastly different settings, on different parts of the planet, and still enjoy the same things.

End Rant

Paris

p.s

follow me on twitter @ohparis

 

 

 

Before I was cool

Before I was cool … (that’s now by the way – this is as cool as I’m going to get, unless I accept Skrillex as a thing, or shave small portions of my hair into weird designs, or stop going to bed promptly at eleven) I used to have a kind of a blog thing called a Xanga.

All my Hong Kong high school friends had one, and it was basically a blog. We all used to post stuff and comment on each others things. I checked my friends Xanga’s pretty much every day after school (oh how I would have loved twitter as a seventeen year old obsessive type).

Anyway today, because I am stressed about looking for a job, I decided to go back in time and see what stressed me out back then. I will tell you what stressed me out most… realizing that 2006 was six years ago. Obviously I could have done the maths, but seriously??!!? I finished high school SIX years ago?! That means the kids in year 6 when I was graduating, who I wouldn’t have looked at except to be like “MOVE SMALL FRY!” (That’s totally how I talked back then) are all going to be in the bars this year or by the end of the year (well they will everywhere but Canada and the US of A where the drinking age is not 18).

So…potentially, that guy at the bar that is asking me where I’m from…he could have been starting high school while I was starting University. Not cool. Foetal position NOW! But yeah sure i’ll take that free drink. THANK YOU INFANT!

So anyway, I went ahead and looked at some posts (I went through a faze of making them all private, so I undid that), so if you care to see what a (more) hormonally charged, 17/18 year old version of my blog was like, feel free to click below:

http://parispaz.xanga.com/

and enjoy your supper or brekkie depending on which side of the globe you are on.

Paris

5 Reasons I am failing at life as an adult, but winning at being 3

 

Sometimes I love living away from home. Don’t get me wrong, I adore my family and I miss them, but they are the kind of people who I can take in small doses too. We have always been a gypsy family that lives spread out, and although we miss each other greatly, we are the type of family respect each others need to travel, quest for adventure. I have friends here who, at almost 30, are still living at home, and good for them if it works, because sometimes I still severely wish I lived at home, in fact, need to live at home.

Here are the reasons why I am failing at life as an adult, but winning at being 3 years old.

 

1. Meals

Whenever I have been home for a few days, I get this weird feeling in my stomach. My skin is better, and I sleep really well. And then I realize it is because I am eating 3 meals a day, (I know! THREE WHOLE MEALS!) and they mostly contain food that has been cooked at home and not in an industrial restaurant style kitchen. There are usually these vegetable things involved, and the meals happen at pretty standard times.

What I am trying to tell you is that two days ago I was really hungry after working a promo job, and it was late, and I couldn’t think what I wanted, so I bought half a roast chicken from the Portuguese place on the corner, AND an Ice Cream sandwich (lemon cake flavour) at Bakerbots bakery, and because I was walking, ate the ice cream first and the chicken when I got home. Failing at being an adult, WINNING at fulfilling my childhood fantasy.

 

2. Being outdoors

When I was a child, my parents were always telling me to turn off the TV and get outside because it was a beautiful day. WELL HAHA! Parents, because now I’m 23 and I don’t have a TV but I have my very own laptop where I can spend HOURS watching Cat videos, not leaving my house or Pajama’s until its nearly dark outside! So suckit adulthood!

3. Bedtime

My lights out time age ten and under was 7.30pm, maybe 8 if I had a sports game after school. WELL! My young fantasy’s are now coming true! I stay up waaaay too late just like all the big kids and do important things like check my Facebook wall repeatedly, and stalk people i’ll probably never see again or would recognize if I did. In the meantime, as mentioned before due to irregular sleepy times, my reoccurring face pimples are worse than the height of my adolescence. But I do what I want. So BOOYAH life. Take that high five in the face.

4. Dressing how I want every day with no one to say NUTHIN!

Yeah, I am wearing mismatching socks. What of it? Yeah this shirt has a toothpaste stain! So!? No I don’t think my sparkly blue eye shadow is too much for a daytime pool party. I can do what I want, and its only weeks later when I have come down off the crazy train of whatever-the-hell hormones were kicking around inside my brain that I look back and think, if ONLY my mother had been there to nag me to change. I always look so well dressed and put together when I am home. But nu-uh, I do what I want!

5. Laundry

As a three-year old, I didn’t care so much about laundry, because DUH someone else did it for me! It was like a magic trick, I would get dirty and boom, the clothes would be back by the end of the week, neatly folded and all good. As an adult, it is one of the most tedious things I have to do, and so I go out and buy more and more underwear, so the frequency of laundry is decreased. True story.