This is number one on my mother's infinite list of wisdom
But how can we? show me a person with no goals or ambitions, indecisive, insecure, vindictive and unimaginative, and i'll show you my new boyfriend.
But what happens when we do finally meet the RIGHT ones? i mean surely, Canada will soon run out of Albanians i can date, so i really do need a back up plan, no?
Smart women, beautiful women, creative and funny women... they so often seem to fall into the strategically placed trap of losers, fall deep and in love. It's frustarting, the amount of advice i have given and has been given to me about the same type of problem, same type of men. the type of man that can never ever possibly give you what you want, the type that feeds on instant gratification, acts on the urges of his implusive emotional imbalance, and of course.... always manages to pick up when his mom calls (or even worse.. his wife)
Perhaps these women are all insecure, looking for some kind of reassurance. I don't suffer from any mommy complex,but why do i feel like i should be held responsible for fixing a damaged human being? Or maybe it's the feeling of control that we need, the control we lose to the thoughtless men that abuse us, that needs to be regained, over and over again. it is the power struggle that excites us, that makes us feel charged with emotion and anxiety. but whatever it is, this addiction cages us into helpless oblivion. We want what we know we shouldn't want and due to that internal struggle,subconsciously begin distrusting all of our instinctual desires and punishing oursleves.
These relationships don't last, let's face it. they dont. and they NEVER will (Amy told me and i believe her!)
Now, the rest of us, (the 'us' i'm referring to is very general.. the sub category i apply to should be obvious to those who know me) are in "healthy" relationships of course. The relationships where wednesday night yoga classes keep things exciting and watching movies, by occurance, outnumbers any type of sexual activity.
"honeeeeyy, can you bring the scissors from the bathroom? i've got an ingrown toe nail and i really want to cut it!"
Who in their right mind opts out for this instead of a wild crazy over dramatic and mentally exrutiating rollercoaster with an emotionally retarded man-child? I mean, i know that romance goes out the window at some point, but the idea of someone asking me to pop their pimple makes me want to drink myself stupid and make some bad decisions.
i'm not saying that these two types of relationships are the only options, but I am saying that.. well... ok,i'm pretty sure these are the only two options. So either we go through life constanly having temporary relationships with women-hating narcisists, or resign to a comfortable, healthy type of love; the type that doesnt give you stomach ulcers, but does give you a collection of useless hobbies and a desire for a vibrator.
Ach.. anyways, while the rest of the albanian immigrants are sill waiting for their landed papers, i'll be here, judging everyone equally and continuing to think my love life is unique, unlike any other, and will be the one to defy all odds..... whatever they may be.
Tuesday
Fierce is the new GO FUCK YOURSELF
sorry i havent written in a while... but the truth is, i havent done much wining. ( on the bright side, i'm happy to report, whining has been going on quite steadily)
Today it was 14 degrees outside, so needless to say, i was quite chipper when i woke up. Putting on my cute outfit, i slipped on my favorite flats and even engaged in a 10 minute dance routine at 8 am to Britney Spears' Circus. Yes, i was happy..... sun was shining, Charlie was snoring adorably, and even my hair decided to give me a break for the day.
Once i finally strolled into the subway ( because i was strolling , almost skipping.. while listening to the birds sing and even paying attention to the sunrays lingering on the tree branches) i was a bit annoyed to see delays had taken place, and now instead of the usual 20 people rushing to get into 1 train cart packed to the max, it was a delightul bunch of 50......
3 trains passed, i didnt get on... on the 4th, i got in, had no railing to hold, and fell onto a smelly fat women 4 times.
I managed to stay positive when i got into work, making small talk with others in the kitchen, while pouring myself a fresh hot cup of joe ( i don't even know why i said that, i don't get why joe is considered coffee.. )
HOWEVER, my day unravelled as follows: after spilling that hot cup of crappy coffee on myself, my keyboard and notebook, having my heel break off my favorite pair of shoes, and realizing i sent my clients the wrong tapes 4 months ago... i was snapped back into the reality of bitterness, sleepiness, and overwhelming irritation.
But just when you think things could not get worse, they did. Flipping through my cable channels, sitting in my cozy bath robe, i stopped at the Tyra show. It is as if the clouds of hell had manifested out of nothingness and shaped themselevs into a giant helmet above my head. This women is the equivalent of chin hair.. esthetically unpleasing, fundementally useless.. but somehow always THERE.
SO, while i sit here, on my couch, dreaming of a cup of tea that i could have, (but do not since i forgot to buy any, and the store is now closed dowstairs) I am relieved. Relieved that the day is over, that i'm home in peace and quite, and mostly importantly, relieved to know... that no matter how bad my day is, how dissapointing and unproductive, how long and tedious.. i am still not Tyra Bank, or the mirror in her house that she stares into..... and this alone makes another shitty day not so friggin bad.
Today it was 14 degrees outside, so needless to say, i was quite chipper when i woke up. Putting on my cute outfit, i slipped on my favorite flats and even engaged in a 10 minute dance routine at 8 am to Britney Spears' Circus. Yes, i was happy..... sun was shining, Charlie was snoring adorably, and even my hair decided to give me a break for the day.
Once i finally strolled into the subway ( because i was strolling , almost skipping.. while listening to the birds sing and even paying attention to the sunrays lingering on the tree branches) i was a bit annoyed to see delays had taken place, and now instead of the usual 20 people rushing to get into 1 train cart packed to the max, it was a delightul bunch of 50......
3 trains passed, i didnt get on... on the 4th, i got in, had no railing to hold, and fell onto a smelly fat women 4 times.
I managed to stay positive when i got into work, making small talk with others in the kitchen, while pouring myself a fresh hot cup of joe ( i don't even know why i said that, i don't get why joe is considered coffee.. )
HOWEVER, my day unravelled as follows: after spilling that hot cup of crappy coffee on myself, my keyboard and notebook, having my heel break off my favorite pair of shoes, and realizing i sent my clients the wrong tapes 4 months ago... i was snapped back into the reality of bitterness, sleepiness, and overwhelming irritation.
But just when you think things could not get worse, they did. Flipping through my cable channels, sitting in my cozy bath robe, i stopped at the Tyra show. It is as if the clouds of hell had manifested out of nothingness and shaped themselevs into a giant helmet above my head. This women is the equivalent of chin hair.. esthetically unpleasing, fundementally useless.. but somehow always THERE.
SO, while i sit here, on my couch, dreaming of a cup of tea that i could have, (but do not since i forgot to buy any, and the store is now closed dowstairs) I am relieved. Relieved that the day is over, that i'm home in peace and quite, and mostly importantly, relieved to know... that no matter how bad my day is, how dissapointing and unproductive, how long and tedious.. i am still not Tyra Bank, or the mirror in her house that she stares into..... and this alone makes another shitty day not so friggin bad.
Tuesday
Urban Landsape of Loneliness
The title of this blog is a quote I heard today while attending the WIFT event. ( Women in Film and Television). There was an interview with a director of one of the short films being presented and this was the way in which she described Toronto. She was an incredibly articular woman; very attractive, an activist for human rights and a winner of several awards for her creative work.To say the least, rather impressive. That being said, I didn't like her short.
It was a slow, winding, boring piece about a pregnant woman contiplating suicide. The lack of dialogue, constant buzzing of the depressing music, and repetative pretentious images left me feeling bored.. well.. to death. ( ahh, sweet irony!)
However, as she described her first encounters with this city, it all struck a cord. In a metropolitan melting pot that is Toronto, how is it that there are so many lonely souls?
While on my way back home from this event, being consumed by thought, i accidentally took the longer subway route, and therefore was forced to swtch 3 trains. After getting pushed, almost hit in the face with a door, shouted at by a complete stranger, I was home.
Sit on the subway, and you will see the meaning of desperation. God forbid anyone makes any eye contact; so awkward and uncomfortable! Sometimes, I even catch people looking at each other through reflections on the subway windows and doors, just to avoid making any real human connection. jeez, it's not like you have to marry the person; a simple recognition of their existance could be enough to make someone feel less isolated.
But NO. In a country where people see each other as replacable as the tires on their newly aquired Mercedes, a gesture such as smiling is simply out.of.date.
The last time i got some eye contact and a smile, it was followed by "Can i have some change for the subway? i'm a student who lives in Missisauga so i need $5.50 to get home" (i gave 4 dollars, and i still regret it, that lying bastard!)
Nowdays, the only way to feel like your life is worth a fuck, is to get a new friend request on facebook, or well.. hmm.. start a blog. And I must say, this attitude transcends subway manners between strangers into relationships in general. Everyone is more guarded, more consumed by their own burdening insecurities, more judgmental of insignificant and superficial details, and fundementally.. less appealing to talk to. Vicious cycle my friends...
So I urge all my loyal readers ( meaning you Nellie) to start doing those little things that make the big differences and let even strangers feel a slight bit of comfort and warmth in our cold urban landscape of loneliness.
That is, unless they're ugly.
It was a slow, winding, boring piece about a pregnant woman contiplating suicide. The lack of dialogue, constant buzzing of the depressing music, and repetative pretentious images left me feeling bored.. well.. to death. ( ahh, sweet irony!)
However, as she described her first encounters with this city, it all struck a cord. In a metropolitan melting pot that is Toronto, how is it that there are so many lonely souls?
While on my way back home from this event, being consumed by thought, i accidentally took the longer subway route, and therefore was forced to swtch 3 trains. After getting pushed, almost hit in the face with a door, shouted at by a complete stranger, I was home.
Sit on the subway, and you will see the meaning of desperation. God forbid anyone makes any eye contact; so awkward and uncomfortable! Sometimes, I even catch people looking at each other through reflections on the subway windows and doors, just to avoid making any real human connection. jeez, it's not like you have to marry the person; a simple recognition of their existance could be enough to make someone feel less isolated.
But NO. In a country where people see each other as replacable as the tires on their newly aquired Mercedes, a gesture such as smiling is simply out.of.date.
The last time i got some eye contact and a smile, it was followed by "Can i have some change for the subway? i'm a student who lives in Missisauga so i need $5.50 to get home" (i gave 4 dollars, and i still regret it, that lying bastard!)
Nowdays, the only way to feel like your life is worth a fuck, is to get a new friend request on facebook, or well.. hmm.. start a blog. And I must say, this attitude transcends subway manners between strangers into relationships in general. Everyone is more guarded, more consumed by their own burdening insecurities, more judgmental of insignificant and superficial details, and fundementally.. less appealing to talk to. Vicious cycle my friends...
So I urge all my loyal readers ( meaning you Nellie) to start doing those little things that make the big differences and let even strangers feel a slight bit of comfort and warmth in our cold urban landscape of loneliness.
That is, unless they're ugly.
Monday
Sunday
Canada, ta -ta!
welcome to post #2!
I won't be introducing each post i submit, but right now this is all new and kind of exciting so...
after another evening of wining and whining with my friend Laura ( ok, this time we actually opted out for beer, but our complaining wasn't affected by the change of alcohol) i'm filled with assurance that my bohemian soul does not belong in the capitalist junk yard that we call Canada. Ok, i will be the first to admit, life here isn't so bad. But since when did my standards sink so low? With endless amounts of jobs, relationships, friendships, family woes and such behind me, I feel like i'm ready to move the fuck on.
I WANT SOME SUN!
my skin is turning gray, along with my overall outlook on life, and apparently (as i discovered today after doing laundry,) so is my wardrobe! fuck gray! i want oranges and pinks, greens and reds! i want rainbows!
So sitting on my comfy couch with Laura, i started telling her about my recent plan to move to Malta, a decision that sprung from talking with my mother the other day. " Hey, what about Malta?" were my mother's convincing words that provoked my newest desire. hmmm.. fuck it, why not?! SO..as i told Laura this plan, it turned out she is half Maltese! Which explains why she was so shocked at my choice of destination. Anyways, the irony of it all just made me more convinced that this is destiny. People may think it's crazy to leave the job that promises so much, but I'd rather be a tanned, skinny waitress than a cold, bitter Executive.
losing my blog-ginity
Ok, so this is officially my new blog, and the first time that i attempt to write the madness that goes on in my head on daily bases. i never thought i would do a blog, mostly because i didn't know what i could possibly say that would prompt people to come back, but after some delibiration, I turned to my motto of the year to help me make my decision... "fuck it, why not?"
OK, I realize that the motto just seems like a more crude version of the "yes man" movie plot, but it's actually not as simple. My motto only comes in hand when my rationale cannot find a good enough reason not to try something. By all means, i do not say YES to all opportunitites that come along ( even though some of my behaviour this year may tell you otherwise.. and i'll tell you about THAT later perhaps), butI have decided that whenever i act like my usual, over analytical and indecisive self, instead of having other people tell me to buck up, i'll be the one to do it!
So, back to writing a blog, which i know nothing about. How often must one update? Should they be themed? Do i have to give a lot of people access to it? So many questions, and no will or energy to get the answer. So i will take direction from my briliant friend who is blog-tastic to do as I please on here, say whatever the fuck i want to ( and inevidibly come to regret it after) and share my opinions, which otherwise are known as FACTS.
So please enjoy!
OK, I realize that the motto just seems like a more crude version of the "yes man" movie plot, but it's actually not as simple. My motto only comes in hand when my rationale cannot find a good enough reason not to try something. By all means, i do not say YES to all opportunitites that come along ( even though some of my behaviour this year may tell you otherwise.. and i'll tell you about THAT later perhaps), butI have decided that whenever i act like my usual, over analytical and indecisive self, instead of having other people tell me to buck up, i'll be the one to do it!
So, back to writing a blog, which i know nothing about. How often must one update? Should they be themed? Do i have to give a lot of people access to it? So many questions, and no will or energy to get the answer. So i will take direction from my briliant friend who is blog-tastic to do as I please on here, say whatever the fuck i want to ( and inevidibly come to regret it after) and share my opinions, which otherwise are known as FACTS.
So please enjoy!
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