If I hide my neuroses between photographs, maybe no one will notice!

I think it started yesterday morning. I woke up and found that the resume that I was updating to send to some job prospects had been closed without saving. I'm not blaming Ryan, he said he didn't close the program. I should've saved it before I got off the computer. But anyway, I think it was at that very moment, I felt something change in the air. The vibes were off.







Contrastingly, the night before had been Fabulous. I was in high spirits, I rocked out to back-to-back Yeah Yeah Yeah albums and then Magneta Lane. I entertained fantasies of becoming rich and successful and fabulous. Then Kellie came over with brilliant news of her new up-and-coming job, and we went out for dinner with Leann and took a midnight bicycle adventure down by the lake where there was a lantern festival and we almost road right off the unfinished boardwalk.














So the next morning, I just felt shitty. The shittiness continued into the evening when I had committed myself to fixing up my resumes and sending off three different coverletters, but I ended up smoking myself into a coma and feeling quite sorry for myself.














I just don't think I'm ready to leave where I am. I had just started feeling good at my internship, getting to know some people better, and feeling like maybe I could start being myself finally. And now, thinking about applying to different jobs and going to interviews makes it difficult to concentrate at work. I'm afraid to commit myself because I don't know how long I'm going to be here.














Being an intern is such a mind-boggling status. You're there to learn, but not to commit. You're there to help, but on anything long-term. Maybe I'm just not cut out to be an intern. I can't do things half-way. When I do things half-way, I feel like an asshole, and worse, I feel like everyone knows I'm being an asshole. I never did co-op at school, I've only ever worked in a swim-or-sink environment and I desperately want to swim here, but I'm afraid I'm going to get swooped up out of the bowl at any second.

I had two very real, very possible job opportunities that I have no doubt lost because I've sat on it for too long. I don't want to be the girl who sends her resume in late. Had I been able to send the resume yesterday morning as I had planned because as of Monday night, my resume had been updated, I would probably (hopefully) be hearing back from them next week. But some mysterious force had fucked me up neurotically. I let myself choke. I let myself feel sorry for myself.

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I'm praying that they offer me a job here. To be quite honest, I don't really want to go anywhere else. At least not at this point. There is still too much I haven't learned. There is too much I haven't yet sunk my teeth into. I don't want to start at a new entry level position where I'd have to relearn everything all over again, or worse, have to take on even more redundant tasks as most entry level positions require. Here, I've already proven myself worthy of more. There's no where to go but up. Anywhere else, I'd be back at the bottom rung.

Garçon means Boy

I've been feeling very literary. I finished Bonjour Tristesse which was a beautiful little novel - a bit melodramatic emo-teen, but Françoise Sagan wrote it when she was only 18 and she was a lot smarter than I was at that age. Mostly, I bought it because I love the way the French language flows - even in translation. The way their phrase their ideas is always so lyrical, subtle and artful. To master the French language would be a true accomplishment and is on my list of things to-do. Even in high school, though I hated poetry in English, I used to enjoy writing poems in French. I also discovered that I got stage-fright in French, which doesn't happen when I'm speaking English.

Adieu tristesse
Bounjour tristesse
Tu es inscrite dans les lignes du plaford
Tu es inscrite dans les yeux que j'aime
Car les lèvres les plus pauvres te dénoncent
Par un sourire
Bonjour tristesse
Amour des corps aimables
Puissance de l'amour
Dont l'amabilité surgit
Comme un monstre sans corps
Tête désappointée
Tristesse beau visage

- P. Eluard (La vie immédiate)

Now I'm reading Oh, the Glory of It All by Sean Wilsey, the editor-at-large of McSweeney's, which is my most favourite indie publishing houses in the universe. For those of you who are not familiar with McSweeney's, do yourself a favour and buy yourself a copy of Believer magazine, or check out any of their list of writers including Dave Eggers, one of my most favourite writers of all time.


















It is so much easier to consume creativity than pursue it. Besides adding some psychedelic swirls to my monster painting, I haven't touched it at all. It's just too intimidating. Drawing is easier, but I'm too lazy to do even that. So I hide behind my novels and read about inspiring Other People who achieve great wonderous things in their lives while I waste away my youth in front of the television screen.

Oh, I'm being melodramatic again. I do lots of fun young stuff. I almost threw my back out at the Yonge Street Festival yesterday where I got to see the Meligorve Band for free. I screamed and danced even though no one else was quite That into it. Except for this group of chubby 12 year old girls in the front (sigh). My enthusiasm was well rewarded when the drummer sent his drumstick flying into the crowd and I nearly caught it. Ryan caught it for me because he's taller. I got it signed by the drummer behind the stage and I was giddy for about half an hour until I remembered how fucking burnt-out I was from the 1.5 hour drive home at 3 a.m. last night from Barrie.

An example of viral marketing.

I am Bold, Grown-up Cheese.

I'm a bold, big city person. Museums, theater, fine dining and cool shops... I can even appreciate performance art. I've got grown-up tastes but I'm not stuffy or stiff. I know how to have fun and I'm just as comfortable at a white linen-laid table as I am at the hot dog cart. I've got style. An individualist who isn't afraid to show my true colors or to stand out in a crowd.

Bittersweet Symphony

Graduation was a lot of fun considering how long the ceremony was - luckily I went to college, so we only had maybe 1,000 grads from only 5 faculties, but university convocations can go on for days with thousands of robed monkeys waiting around to get a fake diploma. Maybe only my school did this, but the diploma they gave us on stage was a fake - we had to trade in our robe in order get our actual diploma, as if we were going to run off with them. My mom already got the real diploma framed.






















I wore the cutest vintage dress from Exile in Kensington ($30 + $25 alterations). When I got up on stage, some of the more fashion savvy teachers complimented me, which was nice and I got lots of hugs from my old teachers. It's so weird that some of them used to intimidate me. Nothing like a little time and perspective to show us how most teachers are full of shit. But good shit - well-meaning shit.






















Later that night, I went out with Ryan, Jonathan, Ashley and Jen for celebratory drinks. Enjoying cheap drinks at the Gladstone, Ashley and I did a deafening rendition of Ain't No Mountain High Enough, after which a 60 year old lady wearing a sequinced vest came up to me to compliment my dress.






















After eight rounds of beer (rum and coke for Ash) and two rounds of vodka shots, we were all acting a little crazy (except I was sober, but I'm used to being crazy all the time) so we went through McDonald's drive-in (defying our diets) and played Texas Hold-em til 3 a.m. while Scarface was on in the background. Ashley was kicking all our asses except in the final rounds when Ryan beat her three times in a row all on the river.






















This picture is the perfect snapshot of what Ryan and my relationship is all about!