It’s my pity party and I’ll cry if I want to

Does anybody else set themselves up to fail? I’m starting to feel as though it’s some morbid habit of mine and I don’t know what to do. I’m sitting here depressed about the fact that I just walked home in the rain after getting my hair cut.  I eventually called a taxi, but why didn’t I call one to begin with so I could have waited inside and avoided all the drama? I knew it was dark clouds outside and I even asked how much the hairdresser thought it would cost me to get home. I know this sounds really spoiled but sometimes I expect people to look after me even when I don’t ask them. I get upset when strangers don’t ask why I’m crying or for example when I was in the gas station asking for directions, I got angry at the innocent bystanders for not offering me a ride home. But why would they?! I’m just some dumb Canadian crying her eyes out and holding up the line to pay. When I got home my housemates got mad at me for not calling them to come pick me up- I know they would have come get me no problem and I even considered it, but for some reason I never called. Do I enjoy having people pity me?

While at the corner of Smith st. and Kumbari Ave. waiting for the taxi, once I gave in and finally called one, I kept thinking about who I should be mad at. I just paid too much to get a haircut I hated, my hair was becoming more frizzy and curly by the minute, 2 buses drove right by me, nobody offered to drive me home, I was all alone, my back hurt from carrying such a heavy bag, and my foot itched like a bitch. Honestly, if I was at home I would have called my mother and probably yelled at her. She’s always been a really good sounding board. But I had nobody to yell at and that made the situation 1000x worse. I started crying harder and wishing I never came here. I hate the rain.

I’m in a foreign country and pretty much all my independence is gone. I don’t know my way around most parts of this city and even if I did I have no way to get where I want without asking someone for help. Two buses whizzed by me while I was standing at the bus stop in the pouring rain. From there I tried walking to where I thought I needed to go but I had no idea where I was. I no longer have a blackberry, which means no gps or internet. I know there are people dying in the world, but ruining an overpriced blow-out minutes after you pay for it is pretty sucky.

Maybe I just enjoy the drama. When bad things happen to me, I always think to myself that at least it will make a really good story. I think everybody wants to be rescued, but at the same time I wish I could do everything for myself. I hate admitting I need help- I’m very masculine that way. It’s no one’s job to take care of me.

I guess what I’m saying is: I want you to help me without me having to ask and I want you to feel pity for me but recognize that I’m a very capable person. O and always laugh at my stories. They’re hilarious and dramatic. 

And don’t call me Surely.

I can’t BELIEVE I forgot to tell everyone about my experience with the other side!! Okay, not exactly- actually not at all. The truth is, a few months ago I went to a psychic!

Preceding a fabulous evening of stuffing our faces with nachos and hot wings (à la Monkey Joe’s) Haleigh and I went to Ottawa’s not-so-well-known, but very prestigious Psychic Fair. (Well, as prestigious as you can be in the basement of a Holiday Inn) I entered into this experience with the expectation that I would be told a brief summary of my personality and showered with all the compliments I could handle (that’s how they earn their tips, ya know) ALSO, when my high school friends and I had a psychic reading that’s pretty much how it went. And although a man I worked with claims this discredits her whole ability, I’ll never forget being told I was wise. A little side note to my high school friends who know what I’m talking about- I heard that psychic is now a lesbian, that’s neither here-nor-there just thought I would share a little gossipé.

MOVING ON! When guests arrive to the psychic fair- they’re invited to walk around and check out all the psychic’s/mediums booths’. Very similar to a job fair. Haleigh and I chose the psychic who offered the least expensive reading, which was a very good marketing plan as all the other psychics charged the exact same price and her’s was ten dollars cheaper. She recorded our time together and sent the clip to my email address so I can reference it later on to see if it comes true. And I hope to god that it doesn’t because here is my future in a nutshell.

• I own property by the water
• I have two sons (yay!) O and a miscarriage…
• I get divorced (wtf?! I almost started crying when she told me this)
• I become a fiction writer and live in Europe for a bit
• I get remarried- to someone with blonde hair, the first guy’s was dark. And he was in the military.
• I get into a fight with my boss and walk out.
• I have a mortgage to pay
• My brother dies in a car accident when I’m 33 (he later told me he’s been having dreams about this too…cool)
• I have good health/long life (wahoo)
• I lose all my money, but I will earn it back (kidding!)

So basically I’m a lonely, struggling writer who lives in a house boat. I can’t wait.. For the record I DID NOT want to know my future and I honestly thought this would be a reading of my current traits, more of an analysis of who I am, ya know? This left me depressed about what’s to come, and now I’m wary of any man with dark hair and an army background. Back off- I will not be trapped by your charm and money!!  Apparently he has a lot of money and charisma. At first this captures me, and I soon become bored with our regimented life(Nine years later). It does sound like something I would get myself into, although a decade of being with the same person is giving me anxiety as we speak… so maybe we’ll see.

I forgot to mention my chat with some gypsies in the lobby who told me all about their own experience and how it rang completely true for them. They also told me of their own clairvoyant powers and it was around the time one of them told me she could “feel the spirits in the room because of how humid it was” that I decided she belonged in the looney category. Hello! Aren’t dead people supposed to make things cold?? I guess some people just need something to believe in, and if Silvia Brown lights your spark, then all the more power to ya! Just don’t go around telling me you have powers too because I could have also guessed there’s a history of diabetes in your family. (It would be very inaccurate for people to start calling her a medium. BAM!)

Not knowing what’s ahead in your life is the whole point! People aren’t meant to have this knowledge and it’s obvious by my humour in this post that I don’t take it seriously. If you do, that’s great! I don’t believe in psychics for the same reason I don’t believe in luck- a real man makes his own future. And I am that real man.

Thanks for listening.

Happy Birthday Justin!!!

In ’94 was born Justin Beiber

Three years later they made “Leave it to Beaver”

That’s a great movie,

I think you’re groovy

And now you’re legal in Quebec, not BC

So have a great birthday- I love you JB!!!!

Worrying is like holding an umbrella and waiting for the rain. -Unknown…or me!

Moving to a new country isn’t easy and, as you can imagine my to-do list was very long. In order of importance, however; finding a place to live was at the very top. Most of the Canadian students I met either on the plane or at the airport already had their shit together and a lot of them were moving into residence. I told them that it sucks to be them and that’s the last thing I would want to do. Some had apartments lined up, but honestly I would rather see the place/location before a sign away a year of my life.

When I first got here I was taken to a temporary accommodation and stayed there for 3 nights. This was very handy because I got to explore a little and take the time to look for possible houses/housemates. The man at the front desk informed me that student housing was all the rage and if I wanted to enjoy my experience down here I needed to get myself a room in one of these places. Student accommodation is not residence, although it is very similar. The first place I went to see was called University Village and it looked like a nice place to live. I would have my own room with a door that locked and my very own bathroom and I would share the common area with another student who they would match me up with based on age, program, etc.. The downside was it cost more money than I was expecting to pay on rent and I had this nagging feeling in my gut that it just wasn’t for me. The next place was called University Square and it was also a short distance from the school and the room set-up was basically the same. It was a little bit less expensive but I still had this gut feeling that I shouldn’t sign a lease to live in one of these places. This feeling got stronger when the owner of the building told me his rules for living there: No partying, No drinks on the premises, No Americans, No noise after 9 p.m. and No friends over. He said he had a zero tolerance policy and anyone who violates the rules would be kicked out immediately.  Umm..ok  It was re-enforced just how strict he was when I heard him scream at a tenant to put on sunscreen because “that melanoma shit will kill you” He wasn’t all bad though and did offer me a drive to another student housing building because I didn’t seem as serious as the people he usually rents to and there was a place he knew I would fit in better. The place he drove me to was called Metro and it was much bigger with a tonne more students to interact with. The rooms were pretty much the same as I’ve been seeing, the cost of rent as well. I must have sat in the office with owner of the building for half an hour. As she explained everything to me, the horrible feeling in my gut became more and more intense. The worst was when she said everyone needs to sign an 11-month lease (I’ve never been a fan of commitment). She even called another Canadian student down from his room to tell me about his experience living at Metro, he seemed to love it and kept repeating, “Convenience is key.” Besides that, they pretty much just spoke among themselves using the first names of people I obviously don’t know. It was a strange experience, and after the building owner got her husband to drive me home I started looking for alternative places to live immediately.

House hunt: Day Two

My first experience looking at rooms was dismal at best. The house was very close to the school and the rent was cheap. However, I would be living with a woman, her son and another international student from Asia. It was a small and very hot house with two yappy dogs. The dogs were cute but super annoying, and listening to 24hr barking is not my thing. As I asked about details of living there the things this woman would describe as assets were the fact that she had a garden to grow fresh vegetables (kind of cool), there was a worm farm to put compost (kind of strange) and I couldn’t use her juicer but there was a separate one for me (kind of unnecessary) what’s more- she spent about five minutes demonstrating how to put my juicer together. Also, when she showed me where my refrigerator was I opened to discover it was jammed-packed, top to bottom with giant carrots.  I called a taxi, and got out of there ASAP.

The next place was much farther from the school but much bigger. It had a pool, a nice open living room and a beautiful kitchen. I thought I was going to end up living there because it hit everything on my checklist. I would be sharing the house with a girl and a guy, also the landlord would live downstairs but from the sound of it no one ever really sees him. They were really nice but the guy was a hippie and it didn’t seem that we had much in common. The main reason I didn’t end up taking this place was because I would need to bus to school every day and the place I have now is within walking distance.

I got back to the hotel ready to accept the offer for the second house when I got an email from my current housemates saying to call to book a time for a viewing. I came to see the house and the rest is history. This, my friends, is the story about how I found a place to live within two days.

People kept asking me if I was worried about whether I would find someplace to live. I realize I’ve got a split personality and at times can be quite a controlling person filled with stress, but on the other hand I have the ability to be very laissez-faire and allow things to just fall in my lap. This was an instance where I showed no signs of stress and somehow knew things would work out. All I can say is that I’m really glad I didn’t take the easy way out and just move into residence- been there, done that ya know!

The Aussie Files: Volume One

Alright folks, I’ve made it!! After a long trip which included having oversize luggage(big surprise), getting lost in the Toronto airport, going crazy without Twitter and sitting through a marathon 14 hour flight. I feel like I have so much to say, but I’m going to try and focus on the highlights. Basically when I went to check in at the Ottawa airport I was informed that my luggage was over 10kg too heavy, they couldn’t even accept it because it was so overweight. I had to unpack in front of everybody and thank god I had my lululemon duffel bag in my suitcase because I ended up stuffing that with things, paying an extra 70$ and using it as my second bag.  My first stop was Pearson airport in Toronto. Upon arrival I just followed the crowd and pretty much did what everyone else was doing. This led me to a carousel where I retrieved my suitcase, but after 15-20 minutes of waiting my duffel bag was nowhere in sight. I started to panic and asked a man who worked there what the fuck as going on. After much research and over 30 more minutes of waiting I was informed that I was standing in the wrong terminal and it was an act of god that my first suitcase appeared here, as these were arrivals from U.S.A. WTF?! So I followed the “straight forward” directions to Terminal 3 which included taking an elevator upstairs, crossing a bridge, going down an elevator, screaming at an incompetent airport employee for directions, taking some kind of sky-train, yelling at French people who think it’s cool to stand still on those long treadmills “Bouge!” and taking another elevator where I finally retrieved my lost luggage. Then I had a long wait in the customs line where I realized my phone would soon be turned off- wahhhh!! I would describe the fact that I couldn’t live-tweet throughout my flight as a notch above torture. If you’re a Gemini like me you can probably appreciate that when you have something to say and there’s no outlet to express yourself it kills you a little bit inside.

Here’s a little side story: Me (exiting the bathroom): “Jeez how old is this plane?”    Steward (his occupation, not name): “Two days!”  Me: “Why is there a friggen ashtray on the door, I feel like I’m on Pan-am”  *Apparently it’s the law for them to have ashtrays so people won’t try and dispose of their cigarettes in an unsafe way which could catch the plane on fire ….good to know.

My second layover was at LAX, which was nothing like I imagined. By that I mean none of the Kardashians were anywhere in sight. Being there involved a few hours of sitting and being extremely bored. Now that I think of it I’m extremely glad this whole travelling business is over. The next and final phase of my journey was the flight from L.A. to Brisbane.  After a season of Big Bang Theory, two meals, “The Iron Lady”, a novel, an outfit change and countless magazine articles I finally arrived!! Step one was to take a shower and step two was to find a place to live!

Stay tuned for more about my house hunt! (*spoiler alert: It ends well !!)

Pop idol

If you’re in my age group and have the fortune of being raised in the civilized world chances are you remember listening to “Hit Me Baby, One More Time” or “Oops…I did it Again” and if you’re anything like me- you spent your time choreographing your own routines to each new single and practicing until you’ve got all the moves down pat.

Miss Britney Jean Spears was born on December 2, 1981 in McComb, Mississsippi and raised in Kentwood, Louisiana. She was cast in The Mickey Mouse Club in 1992 and after making her first chart-topping and record-breaking album every girl in the world (including Christina Aguilara) has wanted to be her. Britney is an international phenomenon and it’s hard for people to put their finger on exactly why she gets so much attention. She’s unpredictable which works in her favour as she has be Yahoo!’s most popular search for a total of seven years. The media love to report about the pop star and fans devour every piece of information like it’s the free bread from the restaurant given while you wait for your meal.

I could go on about more statistics proving that Miss Spears has changed the way people think of pop music, etc.. but like most things in the world, this blog is all about ME.   Kidding! ….but seriously tho. My main point is that two weekends ago I traveled to the great city of Toronto to see my girl live in concert.

I started off my weekend by taking the train on Friday morning and arriving in the afternoon. My original plan was to stay at Rachelle’s condo Friday night bc check-in at the hotel wasn’t until Saturday and with at least a day’s worth of shopping to accomplish I needed the extra time. But of course, why would anything go according to plan.. Rachelle was literally kicked out of her place by her roommate bc he decided it was cool to basically have a family reunion and offered her bed to his parents. Long-story short i ended up journeying to Whitby to stay with my love, Corinna. The next morning I took the Go Train back to Toronto where I ran into a number of new problems.

*side story* A few weeks ago I was banking online and noticed my credit card was maxed out. This didn’t make sense to me, but I figured I would wait for all the charges to come in and then I would remember where all my  money had gone. I later received a call from Visa saying my card had been compromised. All I can say is they chose the wrong broke-ass visa numbers to steal. I had Maureen’s visa card for the week, but she took it back before I left for Toronto- which is exactly when I needed it most!!!

That morning I dropped off my luggage at the hotel in their holding room and went to the mall. I ran into some of my old co-workers from La Senza which was cool and it was a nice day so I walked around the city for a bit. I went to check in to the hotel and my plan was to give them my visa to hold the room without charging it while I waited for Kate to get there. Turns out they actually do charge it- or at least put the money on hold to make sure you have enough for the deposit, etc.. When I did banking online that morning I noticed my visa was back to the normal balance so I figured they fixed it and I was back in business. The receipt that printed when I gave them my card said “STOLEN CARD” and it was my nightmare coming true. I was locked out, waiting in the lobby for kate who wasn’t answering any bbm msgs and I had to cancel my hair appt that I could no longer afford and re-book at a place that claims on google to be one of Toronto’s best places for a blowout, but in reality gave me an asian wearing short-shorts and an aeropostale t-shirt who ruined my hair and made me cry.

I was furious. When I eventually got to the hotel the only way I saw this night getting any better was to do a few shots. I was probably half in the bag by the time we got to the concert. Every time we walked by a new group of people I would shout “BRITNEY!! WOO!!” and wait for them to join in, if they didn’t I called them all losers and told them they sucked. I also yelled at the bartender at the ACC for trying to steal my camera, when in reality he’s the one who found it for me and kept it safe. I had definitely sobered-up a bit before the show began and it was such a fun night. They were filming it for her concert dvd and our seats were on the floor so every few minutes I would turn around and wave at the camera. At first our seats were in front of these girls who told me to stop jumping bc it made it hard for them to see, but between the opening act and Brit’s performance we found a row of seats a little closer up that offered much more room and decided to move there. I had so much space and it was amazing. Britney was doing all the moves from her videos and since I know them all by heart I was dancing along the whole time. I woke up the next morning with whiplash. Eventually the security guard just gave up on telling me not to stand on my chair bc I would just ignore him, plus hello! much better view!! At the end of the show a girl came up to me and commented on how amazing my dancing was  throughout the whole concert. After we went back, I guess we partied a bit too hard bc I woke up in the freakin bath tub at 3 a.m. but, I mean, what are hotels for…   The second night was just as fabulous, but our seats weren’t quite as close. I was honestly really excited to see Nicki Minaj again bc her performance was beyond amazing. Except, ew- Drake was there for both shows and it was so embarrassing. He looked like an ape and has gained about 90lbs-and is keeping it on apparently. Also Pauly D was there for the second show and was literally playing my playlist from last summer- if he wasn’t on Jersey Shore he would literally be the dj at some highschool dance right now. Every once in while he would take the mic and say, “fresh to death” or “t-shirt time” and fans would freak out, but in my opinion his dj/performance skills are less than satisfactory. That night was Lauren’s turn to slur her words   The next morning we woke up about 10 minutes before check-out and I got on the train back to Ottawa (HUGE thumbs down)

There are many moments that I haven’t included and all I can say is that it was an amazing weekend and I’m so depressed to be back at home and I will be miserable until she goes on tour again.  <img class="alignright size-medium wp-image-120" title="

Through hell and back.

Have you ever had a near death experience? Neither have I, but oh em gee let me tell you what happened to me last night.

It all started on Saturday night when I woke up in the middle of the night vomiting. The next day I still felt ill and decided to stay home from work. I was able to make it through the day on Monday, but yesterday I got sent home from work bc of the pain I was in. By the time I got home I couldn’t stand up straight and after hours of watching Teen Mom and Real Housewives of Beverly Hills the pain had become excruciating. Maureen took me to the hospital where I was one of the first to see the doctor bc of my apparent condition.

The doctor, who was totally gorgeous, kept pushing on my stomach with his hands. He said, “huh.”  I asked what??! and his exact words were, “that was weird.” Then he told me I had to be given water through intravenous. Nurse bitch Mcgee asked if I’ve ever had IV before and when I said no this is what she said, “All I can tell you is don’t pull your arm away- there’s no nice way to put this, but it’s really unpleasant and going to hurt.”  Umm hello! I’ve had a blood test before, it can’t be much different than that and I did not need her making me so nervous!! And when I get nervous like that I can’t help but giggle- it was so embarrassing.

And just to let everyone know- it’s not anything worse than a blood test- the only thing is, your whole arm feels really cold.

After I asked how many calories was in this and my mom kept squeezing the bag so she wouldn’t miss The King of Queens, we finally got out of there and I felt much better. I still don’t know what was wrong with me-hopefully nothing serious.

#shit my ___ says

#shitmybosssays:

Me: Hey! Do you guys watch Keeping Up With The Kardashians??!

Vince: Omg. Kim is such a psycho.

Me: Ahahaha! Wtf? How so?

Vince: I know about her and Reggie Bush. She was just in it for the money.

LMAO!!

 

#shitmymomsays:

*I overpayed on my visa card and we just received the statement in the mail showing I had a credit*

Me: O cool, that’s how drug dealers launder their money ya know.

Maureen: Well then you better never do it again.

First of all, overpaying isn’t exclusive to drug dealers!! And don’t you think if I was dealing drugs I’d have more than a 69 dollar credit to show for it??!!

She’s insane.

#shit my ____ says.

#Shitmybosssays:

“I can’t believe these people brought in their own box of Tim Horton’s donuts! That’s like bringing Tim Horton’s donuts to a Krispy Kreme.”    Clearly his statement is well thought out and very creative, but I would hardly call it a comparison because, ummm…. unlike both of those places WE DON’T EVEN SELL DONUTS!!!

#shitmybosssays:

*standing on the patio making small talk*

Me, ”At least it’s a nice day and there’s no dust out.”

Vince, “No, It’s just because it isn’t windy.”

Yes. Because clearly I meant that dust just doesn’t exist anymore-there’s just no more debris on this whole planet. Great observation.

Just like I always say.

I work at a restaurant, which I love. I absolutely loove being a server. Today my day started at 10:30 when I opened the restaurant then around 3 p.m. I moved to the patio where I stayed until about 11p.m.  Wednesday is fajita night and today is Wednesday. When a customer orders fajitas they can get as many refills as they like and the rule is one fajita order per customer.  Although I don’t usually work Wednesday nights, I knew about this rule and my manager is really strict about all rules, which I also know.  Ok-so it was one of my first few tables of the night, there were 2 people at the table and they wanted to go ahead with an order of fajitas. I told them about the one-per-customer rule and they were really disappointed and spent about 30 seconds saying hmmmm and staring at the menu.  So I told them not to worry about it and explained my plan that since they were also ordering an app I could order that at the same time and make it seem that they each had their own entree. This plan would also work well bc the kitchen doesn’t put up the fajitas until you yell for them-so I would hold off on that as long as possible until they were almost done their app. It was perfect and I felt like the Robin Hood of getting people good prices for food.  But as soon as the zucchini sticks were delivered chaos ensued. Vince: “Meeka! When are you going to call for those fajitas?!!”  Me: “Just give me a minute, I”ll do it after I bring these people their drinks…”  Vince: “You made a mistake didn’t you! You were supposed to punch those in as an app.” Me: “Nope… the man is eating them, I’ll get her fajitas once I clear this table.”  Vince: “What????  call for them now or just admit you made a mistake.”  Me (getting super frazzled): “I didn’t make a mistake! I know how to punch in an app! Give me a minute to set up the table for fajitas”

By this point everyone in the kitchen is freaking out and I had to bring the fajitas and apologize for bringing their food so early, which didn’t seem to be an issue with the customers. I also had other tables to take care of but was only able to give them about 10% of my attention bc I kept distracting Vince to keep him away from fajita-sharers. Every time he was about to go outside I would pull him back in somehow with a question or comment, one time I even referred him to a guy sitting at the bar saying that I thought I heard him say Vince’s name. They actually got along really well and had a pretty long conversation.

I was doing a really good job at staying calm and keeping everybody happy. It was only after they ordered their refill that I started to get nervous. Their sharing had become blatantly obvious. The zucchini plate was gone and they each had a big white plate in front of them. I confided what I had done in every other server and bartender, begging for advice. Should I go tell Vince I didn’t know they wanted to share?!  Say that he was done his dinner and wanted some of hers..  But how do I explain the extra plate??! Should I wait until he figures it out and say that I had no idea??  Say I didn’t know about the rule????   My plan had become: I will wait for him to figure it out and when he confronts me I will simply say. “O ok, I’ll go tell them.” and then just walk away. This leaves no room for him to criticize or ask me why they each had a separate plate. My hope was I would get yelled at in front of the customers and they would feel terribly and leave me a generous tip.

But then a miracle happened. They were done eating! I took away the plates, and they wanted the bill!  All evidence is gone from the table and I totally pulled it off.

But wait, they were paying by debit and since we don’t have a portable machine I told them to follow me inside. On our way inside another one of my tables asks for something and Vince graciously offers to settle their debit for me.  I became paralyzed. The voice in my head was like NNOOOOOOOOO!!!  I used all my mind power to try and stop this but there was absolutely nothing I could do. I was literally trapped.

In conclusion, he didn’t find out about my little scam. I’m not sure how though. Either he didn’t look at the receipt while they paying or he saw the 2 items + 2 people and my genius plan worked. Regardless, it totally worked- I got a great tip, they told me how much they appreciated what I was doing for them about a thousand times and the woman even gave me free samples of expensive skin care!!

I’m still not sure why i did it. Maybe it was the thrill of breaking the rules or I really did want to give these good people a good deal on their meal, but it was probably just the fact that I really am a shit disturber and somewhat invite myself into these kind of situations. Whatever the reason- I’ve definitely learned my lesson. NEVER AGAIN.  One server asked me if it was all worth it and the answer was no. Throughout this affair I kept walking around saying “I can’t breathe” and my hands were literally shaking. Prob one of the most stressful ordeals of my lifetime.

I realize this sounds dramatic, but if you’re seriously thinking so, you’ve obviously never met me.