4 Reasons my iPhone 4 and I need to break up

I was late to the world of smart phones.
Blame technology illiteracy, blame laziness, blame fear of the new. When I left Australia in 2011 I was rocking a a sweet Samsung Slide phone

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And when I arrived in Canada I went with another shitty phone: a Huweiwei or somethiiiiing.

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It was only after a year with this phone – (which while not a cool touch screen phone, did have the internet on it – so I could check facebook on the run – game changer) that I decided to join the realm of smart phones.

The iPhone 5 was about to drop so I figured I’d go for an iPhone 4, which 3 years ago was pretty cheap (by Canadian phone-plan ridiculous standards).

We’ve been together 3 years now, and with an upgrade up for grabs, I think it is time my iPhone 4 and I broke up.

Here are 4 reasons

1. You never listen to me

lalalalala can't hear ya

lalalalala can’t hear ya

Whenever I ask you to go to instagram or to answer a skype call, your response is to freeze and then do the opposite of what I asked. Are you listening to me iPhone?! Because… I feel like you are not. This is why, first love, I think we need to break up.

2. You’re mean to my friends
You are always getting between me and my friends. Whether it’s when they call or text me, or when they send me something funny via social media. Facebook? Forget it, I had to delete that shit months ago because of your interfering ways. You’re ruining my (social) life. How will I know how Ashlea’s day was?! iPhone 4… It’s not working out. I think I should see other phones and you should see the inside of a bin.

3. I don’t find you attractive anymore

Word

Word

I’m sorry, but I find myself checking out Androids. You just aren’t that hot any more. No there’s nothing you can do. No I don’t think updating my iOS is going to help. Please stop iPhone 4… you’re embarrassing yourself.

4. I can do better
Listen iPhone 4. We had our good times. But I came into this knowing it wasn’t forever. To be honest… I never thought we’d make it three years. I thought I’d drop you (on the ground) long before we reached this point. Don’t cry because it’s over, laugh that you outlasted most of your friends. Even if I don’t decide to go and bat for another team for a while (lesbian joke), I can still upgrade that shit to… an iPhone 5 at least (lets get real – I’m not money bags o’er here). No there’s nothing you can do. No I don’t want one last app upgrade for “old times sake”.

Google where art thou

I use Google for everything.

When I’m lost or need to find the best route somewhere (and because I’m a 25 year old without a license – how to best get their via public transport). I Google recipes that involve the four things in my fridge (butter, chicken, olives, blue cheese). I Google ailments that afflict me (what is this rash on the back of my hand and why do I smell pretzels?) I Google that song with the guy from the thing I like.

Google knows what I mean. Google knows everything.

Google is a verb and a noun.

Google is my god. Hail to thee and thy googley goodness.

Soooooo it stands to reason that in moments of pure frustration – I have turned to Google for those harder answers.

And Google has not always helped me out in my time of need.

Google, what am I doing with my life?

Google, does that cute guy I always smile at like me or is he just like, being friendly and sweet? 

Google, so I got this text from this other guy I like and it was all, “nm u?” and then a winky face. Do you think I should make a move or like, go to that party thing that my friends are all going to? Like, whats the deal?

Google, I think I want to move to LA or London or New York. How hard will it be for me to find a job in the industry there, and will I make friends ok? And will it hard to be find an apartment in an area that isn’t dangerous? And whats the least stressful way to get a visa for the states if I choose the states?

Should I choose the states? Or should I go live it up in Europe and travel around and marry Prince Harry/his look alike?

Google’s been failing me on those tough ones.

But then, that’s what happens when you put your faith and destiny into the hands of an all powerful being (or corporation).

Come on Google! Give me a sign! Show me I’m on the right path!

When Google doesn’t speak to me directly, can I conclude that it doesn’t care about me? I launch my request into it’s search bar and it just gives me vague links, throwing my answers back at me. Making me make decisions for myself, not really guiding me, but ever present, supposedly ever watchful. Google has billions of users and I’m just one small voice in the ocean of browsers.

Something something Religious analogy.

google_god

 

My Accent is not as strong as YOUR accent, AKA: Autistic vs Artistic and THAT awkward misunderstanding

I’ve lived in Canada for over two years now, and sometimes I feel like I’m speaking Cantonese when interacting with the North Americans (I can, for the record speak some Cantonese, but it’s mostly Dim Sum and swear words…so you can tell I’m popular at parties).

My Australian accent is nowhere near as strong as it could be because of a combination of the fact that I have really not lived that many years of my life in the Land Down-Under and it has burnt off, because I mainly had British and American teachers in those formative first few years of school, and because of accent Osmosis, where you absorb part of the accents around you.

I frequently get accused of being British.

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And yet despite speaking ENGLISH, I am constantly misunderstood, laughed at by friends and have had people stare at me bewildered by simple requests because, turns out, we share many of the same words, and yet some of our lexicon is COMPLETELY different.

Here are some amusing examples I have compiled for you:

The Letter “R”
Not brought to you by Sesame Street today, but by me. As an Australian I pronounce this letter of the alphabet much softer than the Canadians. I say “Ahgh” almost, where as the Canadians pronounce this letter “Arghh” like a pirate.

to_arr_is_pirate_funny_84_curtains

 

The difference in pronunciation is what creates most of the misunderstanding between myself and simple Canadian folk.

My Name
My parents have kind of boring names, and they endeavored to make sure we (my siblings and I) had cool, interesting, easy to remember names. I can’t speak for my brothers, but whenever I tell people that my name is Paris, most people make a face like, huh! cool! And no one has ever forgotten my name. Or if they have, they haven’t lived to tell the tale… so same thing!

pink ballons around eiffel tower

But I do find it amusing when Canadians pronounce my name back to me in my accent. Usually with a question mark. They say “oh your name is Pah-rass?…oh you mean Pearriss, like the city?”
No, like the Hilton. Dumbass.

Autistic vs Artistic
I’ll never forget the conversation I had with my boss at the TV station I volunteer at. I was describing a movie I had seen and told her “The movie was so artistic, I loved it.” She was shocked. Okay like you’ve never seen Finding Nemo. I get it. It wasn’t until she finally whispered “I’ve never heard anyone describe a movie as being autistic before” that I realized I would have to find another word. This has happened multiple times with various levels of shock/hilarity/awkwardness.

Toner
Another escapade from my first few weeks in Toronto. I had found a new hairdresser I liked and asked over the phone if they had Toner for after you get highlights (I am not a natural blonde… Q’uelle Suprise). After the hairdresser made me spell out the word (she thought I was asking for Tuna?) she laughed and said “Oh tonearrrghhh. Sure we have that.” Thank god they didn’t put Tuna in my hair after the highlights. That would have been bad…or maybe good? Fish oils anyone? BRB Tunahair

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Google Translate
Hilarity has ensued multiple times (for Canadians) when I have used a word they are unfamiliar with. Funny thing is, I don’t just spout words totally out of context, so you know EXACTLY what I’m talking about, even if the word sounds funny to you. There is an improv game you can play where you have to speak in gibberish and act out a scene and GUESS WHAT?! People can figure out what the hell is going on when actors are making shit up worse than the Daily Mail.

Me: Where’s the bathroom?
You: The what?
Me: The washroom.
You: oh it’s over there!

Don’t. be. a dick. You knew exactly what I was asking. You just wanted me to feel bad. Well guesswhatIdon’t so HA!

Australian: Jumper > Canadian: Sweater.
Australian: Bin > Canadian: Garbage, or Trash (i forget, some of your words get mixed up with American words, and we’ve already established that i’m bi-lingual in Cantonese and English, so it’s a lot to remember).
Australian: Thongs > Canadian: Flip Flops (how many times has THIS been an awkward conversation?)
Australian: Soft Drink > Canadian: Pop or Soda
Australian: Sticky Tape > Canadian: Tape (derp…what does she mean sticky tape?)

There are just too many to list, but the list does go on.

Today I tried to buy stir sticks for the office I am working in this week. You know what those are right? The wooden sticks used to stir coffee and tea in the office. Well fine what would you call them?
Because the person I asked looked like I was completely. fucking. insane.
And I am, sure, but not today.
And what I don’t feel like doing at 10am on a Tuesday, is acting out what a stir stick is.

GAH!

Canada you have a population of around 3million people and according to wiki, in 2011 there were about 250,000 NEW immigrants! That’s about 8% of your population.

Everywhere I go I hear Irish accents, South African accents, Asian accents (all kinds) European accents… There is a huge Aussie and British population over here (duh… we run Whistler!)

So the next time you think about laughing about someones different accent, just remember…

Your accent sounds totally weird to me too.

 

Temping, Prositution of the Corporate world

01-desk-dog
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