It's wednesday afternoon here in Toronto. It is very, very warm. I am sitting outside, in "my favorite spot in the whole world", as I like to call it. I am sitting on my "deck" (or rather, our back porch) in a comfy, wooden "muskoka chair" that Guntar so kindly assembled for me last spring, feeling the warmth of the sun against my skin and enjoying the view of the colorful tulips that seem to be taking over the garden - in a beautiful way, of course. Apparently, the weather has been pretty nice here for the last few days, but I wouldn't know. I've been in my bed, sick, very, for at least the last two or three days (though, I've been sick for longer... maybe I should've started resting sooner?). In any case, I am starting to feel much, much better today.
The thing about being sick, is although you don't have the energy to DO much, you end up with a lot of time to think. Some of the things that I've been thinking about are...
My job(s)... I like the restaurant job, and I don't want to quit. I really like the people that I work with, and they've been surprising me with their kindness and compassion repeatedly over the last week or so. The recycling issue still bothers me, and I am going to see what I can do to change it. But in the end, I like being a server. I like working with people. And I like the money too, it's pretty decent. And it's flexible, which works for me and my one million and three other endeavors! Also, last week one of my tables left me a note on the back of their receipt, it read: "Meg you are awesome! Me and my friend both had shitty days and you made us smile!" (They knew my name because I have to write it at the top of all my credit card bills)... Isn't that nice? Sometimes you have no idea how much of a difference a little bit of friendliness can make!
I must confess though, that I did go for another job interview the other day, to be a "fitness technician" at a women's only gym. I know I'm not exactly trained to be a "Fitness Technician" but I convinced them that my enthusiasm and willingness to learn would make up for that, and they pretty much offered me a job. Oops. I think that maybe I shouldn't take it on... A girl can only do so much, right?
Another thing (or concept?) that has consumed much of my thoughts over the last few days as I lay in bed coughing and sniffling and trying to sleep, is the role that others play in my life, and vice versa.
It's lonely being sick. Since I moved out on my own (about 7 years ago) this is a lesson that never ceases to surprise me, just a little bit, each time it comes around. Perhaps it is because I live and thrive so wonderfully on my own, 98% of the time? I cherish my independence, even though I absolutely adore the dear friends that I choose to surround myself with. But each time I get sick - and I mean truly sick, that kind of sick that just sort of knocks you onto your back without you even realising that it was coming your way - I am reminded of how lonely independence can be. Of course, I find that the universe has a funny way of taking care of us... By pushing us to our limits, and then just when I really need someone - they show up! It was funny, I found myself really missing a certain friend this week while I was sick, and this friend is currently travelling on another continent! But we ended up chatting on the phone yesterday, and I felt better, just being reminded that those we love and those who love us, are always out there. I am often reminded of how lucky a girl I am, because it feels like there are many loved and loving ones out there!
Speaking of people "out there", another cool thing that has happened in recent days/weeks is that I have been reminded (or notified) that I have some regular blog readers out there! (You know who you are!) Which is TOO COOL in some ways (y'know, I really write this thing most of the time IMAGINING that SOMEONE, somewhere, MIGHT read it... sometime) but is also a little bit of a reality check. I mean, I'm not stupid here people. I realise that I am seriously putting myself out there by writing an "online journal", and I'm not terribly candid about who I am either. This is risky in a number of different ways...
I suppose it COULD be risky if I ever chose to talk negatively about someone, or represent myself in a negative manner that I wouldn't want certain people to read about... But I try to write this blog in the same way that I am trying to live my life which is: Honestly. Bravely. Kindly. Compassionately. And with fun, excitement and time for reflection. The way I see it, you don't have to love everything or everyone, or always be perfect, as long as you take ownership and responsibility for your actions and are honest with yourself and those you care about. Which is what I'm trying to do here with "Brave New Girl"... And by the way, THANK YOU to my dear friends and readers who leave comments for me - I love it! But I also invite you, even if I don't actually know you, to show the same courage that I do here on the internet when you are posting your comments to me... and dare to be something more than "Anonymous"...
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
Sunday, May 13, 2007
Difficult Decisions/Dangerous(?) Confessions...
How do I reconcile the fact that I work at a restaurant that doesn't recycle because "it's too expensive" with the reality of the way I live my life? A life where I believe that the only real difference I can make in this world is by my own personal actions... Like selling my car, trying to generate only one (small, kitchen-sized) bag of garbage a week, recycling, composting, volunteering and working for organisations that aim to teach young people about peace (with themselves, the environment, their bodies, their peers, strangers, etc)... With every thing that I do, I am trying to make the most positive impact that I can make on this world, and yet... Something doesn't fit right now.
Big decisions ahead. Not just about what to do about the restaurant job (and yes, it does feel a little dangerous to be questioning the ethics of my employer on the internet)...
Like? Do I return to work this summer for the organisation that I left in January? I love this organisation, I love the people that I get to work with, and obviously I love the young people... But is there such a thing as "a time to move on"???
Sometimes I get so busy, doing the things that I love, the things that I want to be doing, and the things that I think I ought to be doing... that I wonder if I am really taking care of myself. Such an old problem for me: I can take care of everything and everyone else around me, but can I really take care of me?
I think I can. No, I know I can. And maybe all this questioning is a way of doing just that. Maybe this is just the way for me to figure out what the right next steps are. Maybe listening to how I am feeling right now is the first step to making sure that I feel differently, that I feel solid and right, in the near future.
I think it is...
Big decisions ahead. Not just about what to do about the restaurant job (and yes, it does feel a little dangerous to be questioning the ethics of my employer on the internet)...
Like? Do I return to work this summer for the organisation that I left in January? I love this organisation, I love the people that I get to work with, and obviously I love the young people... But is there such a thing as "a time to move on"???
Sometimes I get so busy, doing the things that I love, the things that I want to be doing, and the things that I think I ought to be doing... that I wonder if I am really taking care of myself. Such an old problem for me: I can take care of everything and everyone else around me, but can I really take care of me?
I think I can. No, I know I can. And maybe all this questioning is a way of doing just that. Maybe this is just the way for me to figure out what the right next steps are. Maybe listening to how I am feeling right now is the first step to making sure that I feel differently, that I feel solid and right, in the near future.
I think it is...
Wednesday, May 9, 2007
These Were A Few Of My Favorite Things...
Riding the subway this afternoon, my thoughts drifted... to clothes. Yes, admittedly this is where my thoughts tend to wander when I am most bored & tired (not that public transit is boring to me, there is often a lot of good people watching to be done, but today... well, I guess I am still pretty tired.) Anyone who knows me well knows that if I walk out of a movie and have my outfits picked out for the next week or so, this means the movie was B-O-R-I-N-G. (Sorry to say this but "Gladiator" comes to mind as an example of this.) Anyhow, this afternoon I was thinking about clothes. But more specifically, I was thinking about some of my favorite items... that I no longer possess. And for some very, uh, not-so-respectable(?) reasons. Boo!
First I was thinking about the excellent black jersey shrug that I purchased for a mere $11 from H&M last spring, when I really didn't have $$$ to spare on clothes, or even shampoo for that matter. Oh yes, I was broke then. But Devon was in town from H-fax and wanted to hit up H&M and when I saw this perfect, simple, little black shrug, I knew it would be a staple item in my wardrobe. Indeed, that was the best $11 that I ever spent. This shrug performed perfectly throughout the spring and summer, as I paired it with all my little black dresses (both fancy and casual). It served me and my typically hot-temperatured self equally well throughout the fall and winter, as an added little bit of warmth over my always short-sleeved shirts, that sometimes just didn't cut it when the temperature dropped, like it still does every now and then.
Alas, the perfect little black shrug was a casuality lost in New York earlier this year, the night of the FRIGID Festival Party. (Avid blog readers might recall me writing about the events of this, uh, jovial night... When I had all of the festival organisers running around every 20 minutes searching for my "lost" coat & purse. "Lost" in such covert places as hanging over the back of a chair in the centre of a room. Oh my.) Sadly, I was so into the party (and clearly not really into keeping track of my belongings) that my dear little shrug got left behind that night. And inherited by someone else, I guess. Because although I searched the lost and found the next day (for both my dignity and my shrug), nothing turned up. Woe is me.
As my thoughts wandered this afternoon to lamenting the loss of this excellent wardrobe item, I remembered my hot pink pashmina scarf. Again, anyone who knows me well these days, knows that these pashmina scarves have also become a bit of a staple in my wardrobe, at least 3 seasons of the year (summer in Toronto is a little too hot to rock any kind of scarf, if you ask me)! And this hot pink one, well, it was Hott. And also perfect. Not too dark, not too red, not too fluorescent, not too baby. Just a perfect, bright, bold, Pink. Sigh... That one was lost about a year and a half ago, on a glorious night that was my ex-boyfriend's birthday. Poor guy had me accompany him to his friend's band's secret concert in an empty warehouse or something (a concert organised to celebrate someone else's b-day - no joke) and he ended up babysitting his way too drunk (that's what happens when you have to BYOB, and you bring a mickey of vodka and end up drinking the whole thing straight because you forgot to stop at the store and buy mix!) ex-girlfriend. Oh Happy Day. While he did manage to get my stubborn self into a taxi home at the end of the night, he did not manage to send me on my way with my beloved hot pink pashmina. I guess it's understandable. I can be quite a case sometimes.
Now, not to make it seem like I get wasted and irresponsible all the time... 'Cause I really don't. I swear, I am the responsible one, often times!!! Really! But back in the day, when I really wasn't all that responsible (but c'mon, I was 17 and attending my first year of university all the way over in England!) I experienced my very first alcohol-related wardrobe loss. It was an excellent black skirt and shell/vest/top thing. Fantastic. Stylish. Classic. I miss it to this day. The short version of this story is that there was a wine tasting event at my school, I sampled a little too generously, ended up in pool of my own vomit (ooh, classy, I know!) in my bed. Still fully (though perhaps not so stylishly) clothed at this point. I don't even know what brave, angelic soul got down and dirty and dressed me in my PJ's and threw away my soiled bed linens and clothes, but I shall remain eternally grateful. Even if they did throw out one of my favorite outfits in the process. It probably would've never been the same anyhow.
But yes, these were a a few of my favorite things, and the things that I was thinking about today on the subway. I guess the moral of these stories is... "Don't drink and dress"??? Or maybe, don't drink so much you forget that you love what you're wearing??? I'm sure there's a lesson here... somewhere... But I don't have time to properly ruminate on it, I'm meeting an old friend for drinks in less than an hour, and I've got to go pick out an outfit!
First I was thinking about the excellent black jersey shrug that I purchased for a mere $11 from H&M last spring, when I really didn't have $$$ to spare on clothes, or even shampoo for that matter. Oh yes, I was broke then. But Devon was in town from H-fax and wanted to hit up H&M and when I saw this perfect, simple, little black shrug, I knew it would be a staple item in my wardrobe. Indeed, that was the best $11 that I ever spent. This shrug performed perfectly throughout the spring and summer, as I paired it with all my little black dresses (both fancy and casual). It served me and my typically hot-temperatured self equally well throughout the fall and winter, as an added little bit of warmth over my always short-sleeved shirts, that sometimes just didn't cut it when the temperature dropped, like it still does every now and then.
Alas, the perfect little black shrug was a casuality lost in New York earlier this year, the night of the FRIGID Festival Party. (Avid blog readers might recall me writing about the events of this, uh, jovial night... When I had all of the festival organisers running around every 20 minutes searching for my "lost" coat & purse. "Lost" in such covert places as hanging over the back of a chair in the centre of a room. Oh my.) Sadly, I was so into the party (and clearly not really into keeping track of my belongings) that my dear little shrug got left behind that night. And inherited by someone else, I guess. Because although I searched the lost and found the next day (for both my dignity and my shrug), nothing turned up. Woe is me.
As my thoughts wandered this afternoon to lamenting the loss of this excellent wardrobe item, I remembered my hot pink pashmina scarf. Again, anyone who knows me well these days, knows that these pashmina scarves have also become a bit of a staple in my wardrobe, at least 3 seasons of the year (summer in Toronto is a little too hot to rock any kind of scarf, if you ask me)! And this hot pink one, well, it was Hott. And also perfect. Not too dark, not too red, not too fluorescent, not too baby. Just a perfect, bright, bold, Pink. Sigh... That one was lost about a year and a half ago, on a glorious night that was my ex-boyfriend's birthday. Poor guy had me accompany him to his friend's band's secret concert in an empty warehouse or something (a concert organised to celebrate someone else's b-day - no joke) and he ended up babysitting his way too drunk (that's what happens when you have to BYOB, and you bring a mickey of vodka and end up drinking the whole thing straight because you forgot to stop at the store and buy mix!) ex-girlfriend. Oh Happy Day. While he did manage to get my stubborn self into a taxi home at the end of the night, he did not manage to send me on my way with my beloved hot pink pashmina. I guess it's understandable. I can be quite a case sometimes.
Now, not to make it seem like I get wasted and irresponsible all the time... 'Cause I really don't. I swear, I am the responsible one, often times!!! Really! But back in the day, when I really wasn't all that responsible (but c'mon, I was 17 and attending my first year of university all the way over in England!) I experienced my very first alcohol-related wardrobe loss. It was an excellent black skirt and shell/vest/top thing. Fantastic. Stylish. Classic. I miss it to this day. The short version of this story is that there was a wine tasting event at my school, I sampled a little too generously, ended up in pool of my own vomit (ooh, classy, I know!) in my bed. Still fully (though perhaps not so stylishly) clothed at this point. I don't even know what brave, angelic soul got down and dirty and dressed me in my PJ's and threw away my soiled bed linens and clothes, but I shall remain eternally grateful. Even if they did throw out one of my favorite outfits in the process. It probably would've never been the same anyhow.
But yes, these were a a few of my favorite things, and the things that I was thinking about today on the subway. I guess the moral of these stories is... "Don't drink and dress"??? Or maybe, don't drink so much you forget that you love what you're wearing??? I'm sure there's a lesson here... somewhere... But I don't have time to properly ruminate on it, I'm meeting an old friend for drinks in less than an hour, and I've got to go pick out an outfit!
Friday, May 4, 2007
Some Friday Nights Are For Staying In
So I feel the need to share this with you: I have been feeling angry lately. I haven't been acting angry lately, I don't think. But I have definitely been feeling it. Not rageful, off-the-wall, crazy-frustrated angry. No, it's more like a dull, insiduous, peeved/irked sorta feeling. I just feel more easily irritated by some things. Like the fact that out of lazyness today I went to Dominion to do my grocery shopping instead of Kensington Market (an irksome enough fact, given that I am making a conscious effort as of late to shop locally and support smaller businesses - see? I'm even irritated by myself!) and when I went to buy my organic bananas, they were wrapped in plastic!!! Ridiculously excessive? Yes. Cause for a bad day? Probably not. But it got to me, ruined the rest of my grocery shopping experience, I think. And grocery shopping is actually one of my favorite activities!
Oh my. Something is clearly wrong (with me?)...
Maybe I'm not getting enough sleep. Alright, alright, I know I am definitely not getting enough sleep. But you know, it feels ironic for me to cite 'lack of sleep' as the cause for my crankiness, given my self-proffessed acceptance of my long-standing insomnia (I mean, I did write and perform my own play about facing those particular demons)... But I think the problem isn't so much lack of sleep (cause I really don't typically sleep many hours a night), but rather lack of time in my bed. As long as I'm confessing things here, I might as well tell you that for the last three nights (or rather "sleep times" given my recent semi-nocturnal work schedule), I have only spent 4-5 hours in my bed. That's really probably not enough rest for someone who is waitressing overnight, and spending her days teaching theatre workshops to high school students, doing research for the book she is writing, having meetings and photoshoots for the play she is producing, as well as meetings for the documentary video she is producing for the organisation that she is also helping to develop new food education workshops with. I'm not even going to tell you about the social life I am trying to maintain... now that patio season is fully upon us.
Oh my. Something is clearly wrong with me.
Alright, not to worry! It may be friday night, but I am determined to remedy myself! I have made a firm decision: tonight, I will not go out, and party like the fun-loving gal that I am. No, I shall go make myself a nice healthy dinner, and then promptly settle into bed while watching a movie. I've been wanting to see that "Freedom Writers" one for a while now.
Ah yes, it's settled. Tonight is about rest, and that feels better, and less irksome, already.
(If it weren't unbearably cheesy I would put a little emoticom smiley face here)
Oh my. Something is clearly wrong (with me?)...
Maybe I'm not getting enough sleep. Alright, alright, I know I am definitely not getting enough sleep. But you know, it feels ironic for me to cite 'lack of sleep' as the cause for my crankiness, given my self-proffessed acceptance of my long-standing insomnia (I mean, I did write and perform my own play about facing those particular demons)... But I think the problem isn't so much lack of sleep (cause I really don't typically sleep many hours a night), but rather lack of time in my bed. As long as I'm confessing things here, I might as well tell you that for the last three nights (or rather "sleep times" given my recent semi-nocturnal work schedule), I have only spent 4-5 hours in my bed. That's really probably not enough rest for someone who is waitressing overnight, and spending her days teaching theatre workshops to high school students, doing research for the book she is writing, having meetings and photoshoots for the play she is producing, as well as meetings for the documentary video she is producing for the organisation that she is also helping to develop new food education workshops with. I'm not even going to tell you about the social life I am trying to maintain... now that patio season is fully upon us.
Oh my. Something is clearly wrong with me.
Alright, not to worry! It may be friday night, but I am determined to remedy myself! I have made a firm decision: tonight, I will not go out, and party like the fun-loving gal that I am. No, I shall go make myself a nice healthy dinner, and then promptly settle into bed while watching a movie. I've been wanting to see that "Freedom Writers" one for a while now.
Ah yes, it's settled. Tonight is about rest, and that feels better, and less irksome, already.
(If it weren't unbearably cheesy I would put a little emoticom smiley face here)
Tuesday, May 1, 2007
The Night Shift
So it's May now. And I just flipped the month over on my "Quotes of the Month" calendar and this month's quote is an ancient sanskrit proverb:
look to this day for it is life
in its brief course lie all
the realities and truths of existence,
the joy of growth, the glory of action,
the splendor of beauty...
today well lived makes every
yesterday a memory of happiness
and every tomorrow a vision of hope.
look well, therefore, to this day...
My "day" today began less than an hour ago, when I finally woke around 2pm... such a strange time for me to wake. Naturally, I am much more of an "early to bed, early to rise" kinda gal. But I work the night shift now, alot. (Well, someone's gotta work all night at the restaurant to serve the strippers when they get off work!) Last night I worked 11pm until 7am this morning, and tonight I do the same, only I start at midnite.
It's a truly bizarre and fascinating insight into another aspect of humanity to be heading to work at 11pm on a Monday night. And to work the overnight shift at a 24 hour restaurant. I wish I could further articulate what my observations, and conclusions, about humanity based on this "study" are... But at this point, it is all still so new, and just generally foreign to me, that that is the extent of my observations at this point.
I will confess that interacting with all the strippers and servers from the club across the street has got me thinking much more specifically again about what it would be like to exist in that world. And okay, the confession goes deeper: I've actually always (or okay, for the last 6 or 7 years) had a bit of an interest in becoming a part of "that" world. My first summer in Toronto, when I was just 19 years old, saw the crumbling of my relationship and me moving rather abruptly out of the house I was living in with my boyfriend, and generally broke. Broke, and a little broken too. I needed money and I looooove to dance, so I seriously considered trying to become a stripper for a little while.
And if I'm being really honest, the attraction to the job wasn't just the money either. I imagine strippers to be these sexy, powerful, fit women who get to control their income through their sensuality and the weaknesses of men's libidos. I'm sure I'm unfairly glamorizing and idealising the situation, and I don't necessarily still hold those exact beliefs anymore. But I am still curious. Hmmmmmmmmm, maybe after a few months at the restaurant I will apply to be a server at the strip club (I'm not really sure I have the physical confidence to dance naked on stage like that anymore), and then I can see more for myself. Maybe....
In any case, the "study" continues. And I shall do my best not to let the distractions of my new life as a night-shift server, and a Facebook addict, as well as many other things, take me away from my responsibilities as a blogger. And until your eyes meet my words again, I shall leave you with this twist on an ancient sanskrit proverb:
look to this night for its life.
in its breif course lie all
the realities and truths of existence...
look to this day for it is life
in its brief course lie all
the realities and truths of existence,
the joy of growth, the glory of action,
the splendor of beauty...
today well lived makes every
yesterday a memory of happiness
and every tomorrow a vision of hope.
look well, therefore, to this day...
My "day" today began less than an hour ago, when I finally woke around 2pm... such a strange time for me to wake. Naturally, I am much more of an "early to bed, early to rise" kinda gal. But I work the night shift now, alot. (Well, someone's gotta work all night at the restaurant to serve the strippers when they get off work!) Last night I worked 11pm until 7am this morning, and tonight I do the same, only I start at midnite.
It's a truly bizarre and fascinating insight into another aspect of humanity to be heading to work at 11pm on a Monday night. And to work the overnight shift at a 24 hour restaurant. I wish I could further articulate what my observations, and conclusions, about humanity based on this "study" are... But at this point, it is all still so new, and just generally foreign to me, that that is the extent of my observations at this point.
I will confess that interacting with all the strippers and servers from the club across the street has got me thinking much more specifically again about what it would be like to exist in that world. And okay, the confession goes deeper: I've actually always (or okay, for the last 6 or 7 years) had a bit of an interest in becoming a part of "that" world. My first summer in Toronto, when I was just 19 years old, saw the crumbling of my relationship and me moving rather abruptly out of the house I was living in with my boyfriend, and generally broke. Broke, and a little broken too. I needed money and I looooove to dance, so I seriously considered trying to become a stripper for a little while.
And if I'm being really honest, the attraction to the job wasn't just the money either. I imagine strippers to be these sexy, powerful, fit women who get to control their income through their sensuality and the weaknesses of men's libidos. I'm sure I'm unfairly glamorizing and idealising the situation, and I don't necessarily still hold those exact beliefs anymore. But I am still curious. Hmmmmmmmmm, maybe after a few months at the restaurant I will apply to be a server at the strip club (I'm not really sure I have the physical confidence to dance naked on stage like that anymore), and then I can see more for myself. Maybe....
In any case, the "study" continues. And I shall do my best not to let the distractions of my new life as a night-shift server, and a Facebook addict, as well as many other things, take me away from my responsibilities as a blogger. And until your eyes meet my words again, I shall leave you with this twist on an ancient sanskrit proverb:
look to this night for its life.
in its breif course lie all
the realities and truths of existence...
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