My most recent post was about a cleanse I plan to start for my summer beach bod, now we all know a diet change is not the only component to an improved self esteem and being abtastic. Its also extremely wise to add in the almighty buzz kill, exercise, or as I refer to it in my head, death. Before I had mentioned that Im a dancer, but dancers are not quite as fit as you think. We are actually extremely lazy beings, who are really good at short bursts of energy, which requires little to no stamina. I, for one, have NEVER been a runner, to be honest Id rather watch Nascar than go for a run and we all know how painful that is. I can power walk with the best of them, but a runner I am not. But, I’ve decided to go for gold, I’ve been jolking. This is my term for intervals of jogging and walking (I’ve gotta start somewhere). Yesterday was my first ever attempt at a ‘run’, and clearly I don’t know how this works so I ran with literally all of my power and had to stop after about two minutes because I thought I was going to self destruct. WHY DO PEOPLE LIKE THIS, if I could describe my own personal hell it would be that. All I tasted was blood, my lungs hated me as if I was a chain smoker, my thighs were screaming WTF and my head was like ARE YOU OKAY. By a very large miracle, I managed to do two more intervals of jogging before I got home and actually collapsed. I do have to admit, this was one of the most dramatic reactions of my life, after chugging some water I collapsed on my kitchen floor to make sure the room would stop spinning, it was like I had an endorphin hangover. After a few solid minutes of panting and apologizing to my body for the trauma, I got up and continued with some ab, leg and arm work. I made it. I’m alive, somehow. Clearly, this was not easy, and I would never have made it through without a little motivation, my younger sister who is as fit as can be, was with me the whole time throwing back handed encouragements to keep me going. After this ‘near death’ experience I hope I can gain the motivation to keep jolking, I was debating posting some progress pictures but…I don’t think the world is ready for that yet.
As soon as we get the first sunny day of the year, everyone is faced with the inevitable question, am I beach body ready? Now, if your anything like me, Netflix is your boyfriend and pasty skin is your theme. Spring happens to be my least favourite season, its where I’m forced to deal with the damage of the winter fat suit that is now my body (one time someone actually asked me how many pairs of pants I was wearing….just one). I like to consider myself a fairly healthy individual during the week, but weekends spent table dancing and bottle emptying cause for some repercussions, AKA the poutine fairy. She likes to visit you in the wee hours of the morning when you think anything with grease and gravy is your Saviour, cheese curds are your best friend. If poutine was a religion, I’d be a cult leader. But as I said, summer is fast approaching and if I don’t want to be mistaken as a beached whale while trying to catch some rays, I think its about time for some lifestyle edits. Cleanses have hit quite the popularity spike in the past few years and its always something I found interesting but never thought I would have the will power to take on. I mean, drinking lemon water and cayenne pepper for a week sounds more like death row sentence and less like a detoxifying health miracle. I LIVE to eat, if it were a profession I swear I’d have a job by now. So recently, a different type of cleanse was brought to my attention. This cleanse requires you to have two protein shakes a day in place of your breakfast and lunch, and you can cook yourself a healthy dinner. Oh and also no dairy or gluten, AKA no fun. This lasts for thirty days and apparently a lot of people have had major success, so why not? Its only one month of my life….one painful and unforgiving month. My hopes in blogging about it is that I can hopefully gain motivation in knowing that other people know, plus once the struggles begin I’m sure you’d like to be filled in. My cleanse is set to begin on May 1st, so I’m thinking I should have a ‘final supper’, any ideas?
There comes a point in everyone’s life, where they’re faced with the fact that they don’t have their life together. Not even in the slightest possible way. This occurs about once a day for me. Speaking from experience, the LAST thing I want to hear from one of my friends (that are in long term relationships) is “maybe you should try online dating”, and all I want to respond with is MAYBE I SHOULD GET SOME NEW FRIENDS. But in all seriousness, I am a 21 year old girl who has their whole life ahead of them, I’m not in the mood for online predators or young single dads. I mean, what would I even put in my online bio? “Single, unemployed, dangerously pale, fine arts graduate, I read teen fiction”, wow, am I forever the world’s most eligible bachelorette or what. Whether your single by choice or not, ladies this is our time to shine. Being the third or fifth wheel may be in your job description, but it will pay off someday. Think about all the spare time you have to think about the must have qualities of your future significant other…I have only thought about it a few times:
-the loyalty of Dwight Schrute
-the commitment of Michael Scott
-the swagger of Harvey Specter
-the adventurism of Bilbo Baggins
-the knowledge of Dumbledore
-the humor of Jim Halpert
-the wit of Tyrion Lannister
-the cooking skills of the mouse from Ratatouille
-the anything of Ryan Gosling
-the availability of James Franco
Now in no way am I condoning that we should spending our lives searching for a man. This is our time to live independently, figure out who you want to be, spend your money on a $200 pair of shoes and no one will be mad at you but your mom, drink a whole bottle of wine on a Tuesday night, live your life the way you want too until you have to share it with someone. Long live the single ladies who will forever be inspired by Beyonce, (but don’t refrain from hooking a girl up).
For the past few months I have not only been on a job hunt (still ongoing), but also an apartment hunt (naturally). After a few months of searching I have finally found a new home with my ridiculous roommates, and it couldn’t feel any better. Our search hasn’t been easy because we’re four people looking for a three bedroom apartment, this includes myself, two girls that I have lived with for the past 2 years and one of their boyfriends (God Bless his soul, I hope he survives this year). Our four person occupancy has caused a few speed bumps along the way, most landlords have turned us away because they only want three residents. After checking out a few apartments that looked like a murder scene, we finally found a place we can call home. Unknowingly, our realtor had been selling us as quite the package, which he only mentioned as we were signing the lease. He was selling us as two unconventional couples, AKA I am now apparently in a relationship with one of my best girlfriends (she’s not even my type). Therefore, our new landlord was not opposed to two couples moving in, instead of two singles and a couple. So now it apparently seems that I am no longer single, no longer homeless, once I have a job, I believe I’ll be pretty close to marriage material, (STILL INTERESTED IN MEN THOUGH).
Ladies, we all have that pair of underwear we wouldn’t be caught dead in. You know, the full bottoms, or the granny panties or the ones you use when all your underwear is in the laundry. Well today, I flaunted them. Remember back when I said I was trying all these different avenues of employment, well today I went to a casting call for a well known underwear brand. Now, this was no sexy ensemble from La Senza or Victoria’s Secret, I’m talking about something you’d find in Walmart. So I trek to the East end of Toronto and end up at this studio loft space, I ventured up the stairs and feel like Im about to be murdered because the building is pretty sketchy. I find the casting room and fill out an information form. Now, I have never been to a casting before so I thought it was along the lines of a meet and greet, they just want to see what I look like sort of thing. Boy, was I wrong. A lady handed me a matching underwear and bra set and showed me to the change room. As I put on the ensemble I look in the mirror and think, “Jesus, this is what my mom wears” (Sorry Mom you’re beautiful and all..). Im talking a FULL support bra for when your boobs have gone down the drain, and high waisted underwear to hold in the undesirables. Now, if you know me, you’re aware that I don’t have the ideal model body. I’m the height of a hobbit, my hair is comparable to cousin It and I’ve got the largest bottom you’ve probably ever seen. But I’ll be damned if I did not walk out there in my granny panties and owned those like Beyonce would want me too. The panel of ladies who were casting the models said “Thats fits you well” then proceeded to talk in their secret language of French while I just stood there. They snapped a few pictures of me in my senior’s ensemble and told me I was free to go. I snapped a picture of this underwear crime but am having second thoughts of posting it on here..I wouldn’t want you to never come back.
PS, yes still unemployed
My past week as an unemployed good for nothing graduate, has been pretty uneventful. So I figured I could do a Way Back Wednesday. Over this past Christmas break, a few friends invited me on a short trip to NYC over New Years. Back at this point, I was single and unemployed (somethings never change), and figured why not, lets go! So five Toronto girls decided to hit the bigger city. If your not familiar with me, you would not be aware that I suffer a life threatening condition, chronic motion sickness. Cars, busses, planes, subways, swings, spinning tea cups at Disney, spinning computer chairs, its all undoable in my eyes. Therefore naturally, we decided to drive the eight hours to NYC to be more cost efficient. I sat in the middle seat in the back of the car to enable full view of the road and lessen my chance of car-sickness, and it worked! I made it the entire ride without complaining once, and there started our adventure. We spent our couple of days sight seeing and getting the full New York experience. But because we were there over New Years, we HAD to celebrate. I had watched the infamous ball dropping ceremony in Times Square for years, and always thought it looked interesting. The morning of New Years Eve we arrived in Times Square at about 9:30am to lineup around the gated area. They block off sections where pedestrians wait the entire day, around the main stage and to get a view of the NYE ball. We were lucky enough to get pretty close to the main stage and had a great view of the ball. Now Im not sure what I was exactly expecting from this day…but you never quite understand it until you do it yourself. Once you have marked your spot in the crowd, you’re not allowed to leave. What I mean is, if you need to leave to pee, I hope you wore a diaper. Once you leave the gated area you weren’t allowed back in, not even if you left your newborn in there. So let me reiterate, we stood there from 9:30am-12am, didn’t pee, didn’t eat, didn’t drink, didn’t sit. I have never been so physically and mentally exhausted from doing nothing in my entire life. NYE in NYC is not for the faint at heart. I was so bundled up I looked like an overloaded burrito, and still couldn’t feel my toes for days after. Miley Cyrus performed right before midnight (say what you want about her, but just about anyone is entertaining once you’ve been standing outside for 14.5 hours). As the ball dropped at midnight, the buildings above dropped confetti and it was absolutely breathtaking. So next time you decide to watch the ball drop on TV and think wow those people must be so drunk and having the time of their lives.. guess again I have never been so sober but I would do it all over again.
Welcome, class of 2014, to the real world. Whether it took you 4,5 or 6 years to finish your degree, you did it, you made it out and lived to tell about it. Welcome to the days where getting out of bed are optional and pizza for every meal is acceptable.
Going through post secondary education, there are three stages that every student goes through.
- This place is heaven. This is usually the first transition year into school, where hopefully you have moved away from home and are enjoying your first taste of freedom, otherwise known as your parents have no idea whether you are sleeping late, skipping class and/or drinking on a Monday night.
- I hate school I want to drop out, is usually around exam time, when you’ve had two scheduled on the same day and haven’t read any of the required course readings until the day before the exam.
- Please don’t make me leave, is the stage where you’re in the midst of graduating. Where you wish you could stay an extra year, you’re not ready for reality, being a student is part of your identity, WHAT THE HELL AM I GOING TO DO NOW.
You’ve worked your ass of for years in the endless cycle of class, exams, summer jobs and co-op terms, now its time to relax. If you’re like me and have no job lined up, believe it or not, we should enjoy these lazy times. Of course looking for employment is necessary, try not to stress yourself out over the issue. Take a break, enjoy a few weeks of TV show marathons, online shopping, weekday drinking and overall celebrating how awesome you are, YOU GRADUATED. Your student loans may be higher then the Eiffel Tower, and your bank account may be lower than your self esteem, but there is no price on freedom…right? Take advantage of these simpler times before you’re stuck in an office job or working as a barista at Starbucks, we all have a few dead end jobs in our futures, a few months where we think we won’t make rent, and a few days where Kraft Dinner is your dinner budget. Don’t forget, you’ll always have that overpriced piece of paper that tells you you’re intelligent and ready for the grown up world. Just remember:
-Its ok to cry, (I have multiple times)
-Its ok to be unemployed
-Its ok to ask your parents for money (don’t worry, its unlimited)
-Its ok to sleep until noon to escape your mess of a life
-Its ok to watch an entire TV show season in one day, no judgment
-Its ok to have NO idea what you’re doing, after all, you have forever to figure it out
Just kidding, the witch (aka Satan’s Spawn) did not die…but she did MOVE OUT. I’d like to thank my wonderful roommates for helping me endure this roller coaster that Satan’s child sprung on me. Last night her family came with her to move out all of her tainted belongings, and no Voldemort did not show his face, its celebration time people! What does this mean for me?
-I no longer have to blast annoying music at the top of my speakers to get her to shut her door, For example, I frequently used The House that Heaven Built by The Japandroids;
-I no longer have to roll my eyes when I hear her coughing in her room
-I no longer have to watch any movies at full volume in my room at midnight on a school night
-I no longer have to talk obnoxiously loud on the phone about how I hate my ‘roommate issues’
-I no longer have to stop my drunken friends from trying to break into her room and sabotage her belongings (long live my wonderful friends)
-I no longer have to make gagging noises when I see her leave her bedroom
-I no longer have to pretend I hate country music (because thats all she played in her room so I went on strike for 7 months)
To sum it all up, my life will be a lot more relaxing in this house. My life as we know will now improve, that is once I get a job.
As a student, most of my weekends are spent in a typical fashion, either being slightly (not so slightly) intoxicated and/or recovering. I’d like to go back to October which I can proudly say is that last time I’ve had one of “those” nights. After a bottle of wine and reeking havoc on the subway, my friends and I (a large group of intoxicated girls) arrive at the bar. Whether I got into the bar, is irrelevant, but what happened after is the entertaining part. As we are walking back from the bar to visit the usual Smoke’s Poutine, I’m walking arm and arm with my friend, my six inch heels (go big or go home ladies) get caught in a streetcar track, and inevitably I go down. Now, I don’t simply just fall down onto the street, being arm and arm with my friend means I pulled her entire body on top of me while falling and of course twisted my ankle. Not to mention, I took my tumble in front of a police car who saw my obvious distress and put the sirens on, and drove over to my rescue. Im crying my eyes out on the street, have holes in my pants from falling, meanwhile my friends are shushing me so I don’t make an even bigger scene (the cops are already involved people this can’t escalate any further). My friends soberly confirm to the police men that I’m ok and its just a slight injury. Slight, as in my ankle is the size of baseball. Its clear now that I’m in a lot of pain, but you cannot come between a girl and her poutine on a night out. So, of course I hobble on down and get my poutine (rightfully so), and then let my friends half carry me, half shuffle me on our long commute home.
Waking up the next morning, I knew I was in trouble. Not only was my ankle every colour of the rainbow, but I kept hearing my mother’s nagging voice in my head “You’ll kill yourself in those shoes, one wrong step and your career’s over!”. To explain why my career would be in danger, its because I am a dancer. I’m in a university dance program, dance is my life. So it was a bit troubling that I could not walk at all, but I was also thinking, what in the world am I going to tell my professors? I made some ridiculous story about soberly falling off a curb and I had a doctors note to enable my non-participation in class for a few days while I recovered. It healed pretty fast, and my ankle is as good as new, but I can assure you I have not been that irresponsible since, well at least not in heels anyways.
PS this was back when I was single and not worrying about employment,
As you all know, I am severely unemployed. Therefore, I’m trying out a few different avenues of finding employment. This past weekend I went for an audition for a online dating service commercial. I know, I know, it is embarrassing, but apparently real people do these commercials. So, I spent a few days memorizing my lines and arrived at the casting on Saturday morning with a bit of nerves because I’ve never done anything like this before. As soon as I sit down in the waiting room, a small animal, a dog, runs over to me and jumps up on the seat beside me. If you’ve never met me, then you couldn’t possibly understand the significance of an animal approaching me. I am, anti-animal. Now, I don’t “hate” them, I’m simply petrified. No, nothing traumatizing happened to me as a child, I never had a pet so I didn’t grow up around animals. Every time I went to a birthday party as a child, my parents had to call ahead and ask them to put their pets away because their child is literally distressed at the first sight of any living creature. Now that your aware of my irrational fear of any living being that is not a human, I can continue. So, this dog is staring at me and I put my hand out to pet it like a normal person would, and it licks me. Im sweating. I’ve never been licked by an animal, this is horrible, why do people allow this on a regular basis?! THEN, the dog crawls onto my lap and lays down for the duration of my stay. Clearly, I’ve never had an animal on my lap before, so the whole time I’m thinking “it’s going to pee on me”, “Im going into the audition with animal pee on my pants”. No, it didn’t pee. I’m just a ridiculous human. Eventually, I had to PICK UP THE DOG (heart attack) and put it down so I could do my audition. Which went ok, but how confident can you be when using lines you would never say in your entire life, example “I want a real man”. As far as I know, I didn’t get the part in the commercial, so I’m still unemployed BUT I made a new furry friend right? Ew.
PS the dog was wearing this diaper/overall contraption, I had to take a picture.