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

 

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Things I wish I knew before I did my Masters of Creative Writing AKA you should have spent your money on shoes

Hey Past Paris, how’s it going? So adorable that you just turned 21 and that you’re finishing up your Bachelor of Arts degree. It’s a miracle you passed every subject (hey…a 51 is still a pass OKAY) and that they’re ACTUALLY going to let you graduate when you were supposed to. All those last minute assignments you handed in (some that you began the DAY they were due and were mostly just made up sentences that you hoped made sense because lets be hungover…you drank 7/7 days of the week) were totally worth it, and now, because that 3 years went by in a flash, you’re thinking you’ll do a Masters Degree because you aren’t quite ready to join the real world? That’s sweet, and a great idea considering Australia has this Higher Education thing where you don’t have to start paying back your student loans until you make over a certain amount of money (don’t worry – you’ll flee the country before that happens/at this rate – you’ll never make more than that minimum amount anyhow!).

Except a Masters today does not hold the currency it used to, dear old past me. They’re handing those out like free condoms at the walk-in clinic, and by the time you’re twenty two, you’ll have yours, and everyone will assume you’re a genius in North America (because they make them do like four year degrees or some shit) but we all know you’re just a chicken who applied for the program the day it was closing, and who nearly didn’t make it because you forgot your passport, so you had to use your feminie wiles (and your tears) to convince the dickhead at student services to process your application.

And that Masters in Creative Writing (dear god why didn’t you do something like marketing or business-y so you could actually find a real job?!) is going to be a great talking point… but here are some home truths:

More Valuable than your Masters, is the Interning you do:
The Master’s contact hours I had were a joke. 7pm-9pm Monday-Thursday. Sure there was a lot of writing involved – but I did that ANYWAY because I love writing. SO to fill my time (and feed myself) I got a job doing shitty admin (this is what  has led to more jobs in the future, so thank you universe!) and got stuck into interning for free at a Television Production Company 3 days a week.

This is where I discovered my true passion and the career path I had vaguely known I wanted all along. Turns out  I am a WHIZ at juggling people on set, in a production office, PR people, people I need to get things from (like permission to film for free on a set) 20 year old reality “stars”, major networks and crew. Turns out I thrived on the drama, and learn’t more in 8 months interning (and then being hired and paid!) than I did from sitting in a classroom analyzing the screenplay for Scar face.

Get used to Temping/Retail while you look for that foot in the door:

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Truth be told, had I stayed in Australia, I would have worked on a bunch more shows by now. The production company I interned at loved me (the feeling was mutual!) and they would have found me another position (in research or production). But I knew I’d get stuck in the Australian industry. And hot off the press from a breakup and the completion of four years in one place (I get claustrophobic when I stay still too long) I decided it was now or never to try somewhere new. And so I found myself in a new market, starting from the bottom all over again, networking and having to re-make contacts. SO retail and Temping is what pays the bills and allows me to keep trying to be as fabulous as I can be. It isn’t glamorous but I am damn thankful for it, and it is pretty crazy who you may meet when you’re in a new office/talking to customers. If you are genuine and people are interested in you – they will do what they can – you’ll be surprised to discover who wants to help you/the connections they have if they know what you are trying to do.

You need to learn how to use multiple coffee machines/how to effectively stack a dishwasher:

A run-on from the Temping thing. Mostly what I’m asked to do in a day could occupy two hours out of eight. Answering phones, creating a few fedex orders and crafting a couple emails. Mainly you’ll be unstacking/stacking the dishwasher and making yourself fancier and fancier coffees (mainly due to boredom and or your secret mad scientist sensibilities and not due to your love of coffee).
Maybe you should have gone to Barista school and not got a Masters. Just saying. You’d probably be making more money by now.

Mostly what you’ll write is your blog:
Without those deadlines and people breathing down your neck, it’s going to take a lot of will power to finish projects. Sure you’ll go through writing frenzies, but to actually complete something… yeah not so much. But adorable that you thought you’d be a novelist by now. Uhhhh-dorable. *sobs*

People who did boring degree’s will have way more money than you and/or actual grownup lives:

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That girl in the year below you at college who was studying chemical engineering that you stalk on Twitter and Facebook? Yeah. She just bought an apartment, is engaged, has a pet bulldog and makes 5x more than you did last year (yeah but her tax rebate was probably nothing so HA!). If you wanted to be rich you should have listened to your parents and done a degree with the name of a job in it (hey… Writer is a job…).

The good news is, you’re chasing your dreams and will probably not hate your job (when you get one) and will not just be living for the weekend.
The bad news is, while you’re chasing those dreams you’re going to be eating baked beans on toast at least 3 nights a week.
Yay for Creatives. *Hugs self tightly and rocks*

People are impressed you did a Masters of Creative Writing, because they always figured themselves a Writer… but it’s not going to get you hired…yet:
The number of times interviewers have been impressed that my Masters is in Creative Writing… well it’s a lot. The number of times they’ve been so impressed by the fact that I hold that degree and thought “we need to hire this ridiculously awesome girl!!” is not many. Scratch that. Maybe it’s none. (Pretty sure the interning thing is what has gotten me hired in the past)

There is a difference between people being impressed/jealous of the degree you got, and the way they figure that that degree equals revenue in their business/justifies your salary.

I’m sorry, I thought this advertisement was for an amazingly hilarious Australian girl who grew up in Hong Kong, can stack ALL of the dishes in one tray. is really good at Facebook and can make you an exquisite blend of hazelnut latte and hot chocolate. No? hmmm. That is strange. Anyway while i’m here i’ll just drop off my Resume…

You will probably think a lot about doing a more relevant degree/PHD:

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There is no way in hell I can afford international student fee’s here in Canada, so if i plan on getting further education – it’s back to Australia I go. And while that wouldn’t be so bad, I’m not sure I could handle being a full time student again. I may not be rich now, but i’m hella richer than I was as a student AND my parents were still helping me out at the time.
But I have thought about it. Two guys I’ve dated in the past got their MBA’s and people are doing the PhD thing now. I feel like, if I hadn’t done my Masters right after my BA, I would have appreciated it more (although moving off campus made my results sky-rocket and put me at the top of the class!)
But knowing me, i’d probably just want to study something fun and creative again, like, get a Masters in Stand up Comedy, or a PhD in Blogging.

 

I don’t live my life with regrets, and not for a second would I change my Masters degree, because I loved it, met some awesomely inspiring people – and got to do what I love.
I think i’d just make sure I had less lofty aspirations. Cos… like… I’ll be 25 in a month and I haven’t won an Academy award yet…

But there’s still 30 days!

OK GO.

Literal Advice I can take from Pop Songs: AKA how to win like Ke$ha

Take this advice and you could be as sexy/well adjusted as me

Take this advice and you could be as sexy/well adjusted as me

Put a Milkshake in your yard and boys will come there 
Thanks Kelis! Getting a new boyfriend was never so easy.

My hair can be made into a whip
Willow Smith has one apparently, and her dad is Will Smith, so you know it’s badass.

Hair Whips

Hair Whips

If I dress like a glitzy hobo and brush my teeth with a bottle of Jack (Daniels I presume…not the essence of a guy named Jack) then I will wake up feeling like a black guy.
Now THAT is some good advice, because frankly, I saw a black strippermans penis recently and I’d like to get in on that action.

Don’t go chasing waterfalls
Cos like, you’ll probably get a smashed up face whether you catch it or not, and for realz, that is the money maker baby

All you need is a Dream and a Cardigan to make it in the USA
Thanks Miley! God, here I was thinking I needed connections, and like, a visa and shit. Nope Cardigans and Dreams are all you need to party (and rule) in the USA. I’m going to head to the closest 2nd hand store and then I’m booking my tickets to L.A.X!

Say my Name
Obviously- It’s a great name. Say it a lot. Say it as many times as Destiny’s child demands, and then we’ll be all good. That’s like 50 times, but you’ll get there. And you should probably colour coordinate your room and outfit with your friends. That would be good. Otherwise you clearly don’t love me and are sleeping with some other ho and you’re  “Gettin’ caught up in your game
When you can not say my name”
Kthanks.

Don’t give your number to Scrubs
I’m imagining a pair of my nurse friends uniform. So DUH don’t give those nasty ass cotton fake-jama’s your number. They totally won’t call you. In fact, from now on, no giving your number to ANY inanimate objects.

Say no to Scrubs that won't call you back

Say no to Scrubs that won’t call you back

 

I hope that this advice has been as useful for you as it has for me.

 

You’re welcome.

 

Paris

 

Wouldn’t it be cool if you could lose weight by doing the opposite of things that make you lose weight??

Don't you think I'm sexy?

So recently I went to Asia for two months, and due to a combination of stress-not-eating because of a job that really took it out of me, and the fact that I walk every where in Hong Kong, I lost a bit of weight.

How much, I couldn’t tell you. But enough that people I know and haven’t seen in a while run up to me and say “OH MY GOD YOU’VE LOST SO MUCH WEIGHT!” before they say “Hi.”

It’s not like I lost a limb. It’s not like I went from being obese to being a size zero (unless I did…and I have awful dysmorphia).

But it’s cool. It’s better than the other way around, and it’s made me appreciate my body more.

I’ve even started jogging on occasion (which I hate) and now I play a sport (beach volleyball counts okay).

But don’t get me wrong. Binge eating is my thing. The fattier the food the more delicious. Wouldn’t it be cool if the things that were fun but not good for you made you thinner?

Like:

-What if the Calorie count on the food was actually the negative calories you worked off by eating the food. Like celery but with delicious things, like Double Quarter Pounder with cheeses?

-What if lying on the couch watching movies burned heaps of calories?

-What if drinking and late night chinese-ing was actually an Olympic sport and you had to really work out to get there and it was super good for you?

-What if chocolate was like as good for you as something shitty…like bean sprouts?

-What if those TV work out products actually worked? So I could just put that thing on my stomach which sends electric pulses into my abs and makes me have a six pac?

-What if Sugar was like medicine for your body to make it super healthy and like…strong?

That’s a world I want to live in man.

As it is, I’ll eat this freaking grilled fish and steamed veggies.

fuck.