So, it seems that we're having more problems getting onto a normal schedule than we had originally anticipated. Whoops.
We did get up earlier today than we did, the day before... well, by 'today' I'm referring to Wednesday, because we haven't gone to bed yet, but it's 3:48 am so it's technically now Thursday. I'm not sure why this is so hard, or how we're going to turn it around. I was watching the news today, and I thought it was the 5pm news... turns out, it was the 11pm news. It feels like 10 pm to me right now, I'm completely turned around!
We were supposed to be seeing friends for Dim Sum tomorrow, at 11. I'm not sure we can really afford it, or if we're going to be able to even get ourselves up for it.
I did at least get dressed today, and accomplished a few things, so I feel a bit better, and a bit less like ass, if you will.
So there is that.
Thursday, December 10, 2009
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
Wasting The Days Away
I've fallen into this weird, horrible sleeping schedule, where I don't go to bed until 3 or 4 am, and wake up in the late afternoon the next day. Last night, I was telling my fiance that we need to get to bed, and when I saw that it was 2 am, thought 'huh, that's early! good!'. The sadness of the situation hit me suddenly. Oh how depressing, and what a waste of these free days. Soon enough, I'll be looking back on my freedom with 'fondness' and wondering why I squandered it.
I woke up this afternoon feeling a bit like crap, and generally like a bit of a failure in life. Spending your days in sweatpants, eating like crap is not good for the ego I suppose. We're eating mostly macaroni, because we're poor. Luckily, I love myself some macaroni, and Ryan makes awesome mac n' cheese, by melting in a few cheese slices before tossing the milk and random orange powder in. Then we top it off with a pinch of white pepper, and voila... cheap yummy meal. The line from that Barenaked Ladies song rings so true: 'we wouldn't have to eat kraft dinner! .... but we would, anyways!'
As much as I like KD, this way of life is really wearing down. Yesterday, we didn't really do anything, my only accomplishment of the day was that I warmed up some epanadas bought at the grocery store, and wrapped one lone Christmas present. And then watched a LOT of TV and surfed a LOT of internet. I've decided that today (... this evening) is the day to turn it around, so I'm going to force us to go to bed earlier, get up earlier tomorrow, brush my hair, put real person clothes on, and then make myself 'do stuff'.
So that's the plan, we'll see how it goes? Wish me luck! I'm off to help fiance with the dishes.
I woke up this afternoon feeling a bit like crap, and generally like a bit of a failure in life. Spending your days in sweatpants, eating like crap is not good for the ego I suppose. We're eating mostly macaroni, because we're poor. Luckily, I love myself some macaroni, and Ryan makes awesome mac n' cheese, by melting in a few cheese slices before tossing the milk and random orange powder in. Then we top it off with a pinch of white pepper, and voila... cheap yummy meal. The line from that Barenaked Ladies song rings so true: 'we wouldn't have to eat kraft dinner! .... but we would, anyways!'
As much as I like KD, this way of life is really wearing down. Yesterday, we didn't really do anything, my only accomplishment of the day was that I warmed up some epanadas bought at the grocery store, and wrapped one lone Christmas present. And then watched a LOT of TV and surfed a LOT of internet. I've decided that today (... this evening) is the day to turn it around, so I'm going to force us to go to bed earlier, get up earlier tomorrow, brush my hair, put real person clothes on, and then make myself 'do stuff'.
So that's the plan, we'll see how it goes? Wish me luck! I'm off to help fiance with the dishes.
Monday, December 7, 2009
Inspiration (And Jazz Hands)
I wanted to take a quick moment, and talk about inspiration, because when someone is in a position that I am, it helps a TON, not only to keep you going, but to occasionally give you a swift kick in the arse, motivation wise. I like me that swift kick, I've gotta say.
One of the most recent sources of inspiration, came from a rather unlikely (for me) place. I'd heard about the movie Julie and Julia when it first came out, and had originally planned on seeing it with my mother. I liked the premise, a girl in transit so to speak, working things out by taking on the awesome and daunting project, and how it proceeded to change her life. I also knew nothing about this there Julia Child lady, so I figured it would be a good view. My mother and I never got around to seeing it in theaters, due to conflicting schedules (but don't feel too bad, she got to see it with a friend) so it ended up being another movie on my list of 'stuff I really want to see but haven't gotten around to just yet'.
Luckily for me, it was one of the movies they were showing on our return flight home from Europe. And let me tell you, not only did I love the movie, but it was the only good thing about that damned flight. The health insurance company (which you may recall was flying us home early on an emergency basis because Ryan caught pneumonia in Amsterdam) failed to tell us that they didn't bother securing us two adjacent seats. On any of our flights. There were three in total, Amsterdam to Paris, Paris to Chicago, and Chicago to Vancouver. The worst was the ten hour flight.
I was dead exhausted from all of the stress and hell of the past few days, and emotionally spent. Ryan was still visibly ill, and although the doctor had given him the all-clear to fly, I was concerned about collapsing lungs and other stuff well-meaning family members had mentioned before our flight. So when we located our seats, and we were separated by both an aisle, and two people, I nearly lost my shiz and burst into tears right on the damn flight. The girl sitting beside me didn't want to trade seats with Ryan, she had a window seat, after all.
The flight was long, and boring, and stressful. At one point, I went to the bathroom, and sat on that little flight toilet, with cool wind blowing up my ass, and cried. Snot was running down my face along with tears, my hair was barely brushed, and my eyes were bloodshot. One word: HOT. I didn't even really know why I was crying, I was just tired, and spent, and stressed, and tired. So I get back to my seat, and decide that it's time to check out another movie, and lo and behold... Julie and Julia was on. Joy! This is the Jazz Hands part of the entry... JULIE AND JULIA! Jazz Hands!
Anyways, I watched. And I loved it. Following the 'character' (she's a real person, so I find it hard to use that description without any sort of quotation marks... or air quotes, for that matter) through her struggles, her emotional ups and downs, and through the conception of this plan, to cook through a ridiculously difficult cookbook and blog about it, was epic. To me, anyways. I realize some people reserve the word 'epic' for other things, but this one is mine and I choose to use it here! I felt like I knew her, like I was her, to a certain extent. And I thought, hey... there are other people like me. Not everyone has their shit together. This girl is smart, and funny, and she doesn't have her shit together (just yet... it comes, soon enough, of course) so I'm totally not alone.
I know it was probably arrogant of me to feel 'alone'. Like I was the only person with this struggle or something. But the majority of my close friends are 'University Educated', working on a Masters, employed in a 'proper career', or looking to start theirs with a shiny new degree. I was a smart kid in school, but missed a lot of high school due to being sick. When I was there, I was a top student. But being sick and being so behind all of the time has it's impact, and my grades slid. It closed a lot of doors to me, and at the time, I told myself I didn't care because University totally wasn't for me. I didn't pursue it after high school, but going to community college first, or anything. I just sort of floundered about, at first telling myself that I would work for a year and then go to photography school.
My parents didn't have any money for school, and I knew that. So I was never really motivated in that respect either. Here is where I differ from all of the crazy smart kids who do something about it, and get scholarships. Not me though, that would have been, in a word, smart! Of course, even if the grades had been there, my attendance record would have excluded me from any scholarships anyhow, but I digress.
It somehow ended up that I just kept working these jobs, and when one would become unbearable, I would take a new one. Eventually, I managed to snag myself a job that could become a 'Career' at a company that was fun, and vibrant, and different. And it did become somewhat of a career. I received two promotions within three years, and me and my fiance were in the position to enter the property race. We adopted two kittens from a rescue shelter, purchased a condo, and were living the 'normal' life. I was slowing becoming miserable in my daily life, however, as the job itself started to wear down on me.
I think this is something that happens to anyone 'not doing what they wanted to do'. To start, the job was great, but over time, it's shiny new status faded, and left behind unpleasant things that were previously disguised by the shiny and new. The company started making policy changes, a new CEO came on board, direction was changed, and the corporate atmosphere was doing a big fat about face. I was miserable, but in a well paying job, with a secure future. The company was never losing money, it was always 'in the black' so to speak, very profitable. Had always prided itself on 'ZERO JOBS LOST TO OUTSOURCING' and such, so we were totally safe, right?
Well we all know how that story ended. And the emotions that I went through - fully detailed on previous posts. But now, what to do with this opportunity? My life was a big fat question, that I could answer however I wanted to. That was exciting. It remained exciting for a long time. Now it's just gotten scary. I remind myself that if it's scary, I'm on the right track, and I'm pushing through it. I guess I'm self-realized enough, that I can finally say it, and put it out into the universe:
When I grow up, I want to be a photographer. *
I still hesitate when other people ask me what I want to do. I know what I want to do, but I'm afraid of their scorn, or their dismissal, or eye rolls. Them thinking that there are other, better people out there, that it's a bad thing to get into during 'this' economy, that it's a pipe dream, blah blah blah. And yeah, it is a bit of a pipe dream. But I'm a bit childish and immature in some of my personal beliefs, and I generally refuse to grow up. I still collect toys, love cartoons, Disneyland, the whole lot of it. And with that, comes my personal belief that just because we 'grow up', doesn't mean we have to give up on our dreams. In fact, forsaking your dreams in the name of practicality is such a sad concept. Somewhere along the way, someone beats us down and programs us to think that we can't have it, shouldn't want it, don't deserve it.
To them, I bite my thumb.... or just generally throw a giant 'Fuck You' their way.
So, essentially, this movie very much came at the right time for me. I'm going to secure myself a DVD copy, and whenever I'm feeling scared, or beaten-down, I'm going to pull it out, watch it again, and remind myself that awesome things, and 'nifty-ness' IS possible, I can have it, I'm going to reach out and grab it. Huzzah!
To Julie Powell, thank you so much. For being brave enough to share this journey, for being you, and for being kinda awesome. Also, my fiance has the same last name as you. So I figure we're practically related or something.
* I fully understand the ridiculous implications of a 26-year old using the phrase 'When I grow up'. But, I'm not 'growed up', damnit! As proof, I offer you this: I don't have a drivers liscence. A topic for another day, and one that causes my immediate and extended family no end of grief and dissappointment, for some reason.
One of the most recent sources of inspiration, came from a rather unlikely (for me) place. I'd heard about the movie Julie and Julia when it first came out, and had originally planned on seeing it with my mother. I liked the premise, a girl in transit so to speak, working things out by taking on the awesome and daunting project, and how it proceeded to change her life. I also knew nothing about this there Julia Child lady, so I figured it would be a good view. My mother and I never got around to seeing it in theaters, due to conflicting schedules (but don't feel too bad, she got to see it with a friend) so it ended up being another movie on my list of 'stuff I really want to see but haven't gotten around to just yet'.
Luckily for me, it was one of the movies they were showing on our return flight home from Europe. And let me tell you, not only did I love the movie, but it was the only good thing about that damned flight. The health insurance company (which you may recall was flying us home early on an emergency basis because Ryan caught pneumonia in Amsterdam) failed to tell us that they didn't bother securing us two adjacent seats. On any of our flights. There were three in total, Amsterdam to Paris, Paris to Chicago, and Chicago to Vancouver. The worst was the ten hour flight.
I was dead exhausted from all of the stress and hell of the past few days, and emotionally spent. Ryan was still visibly ill, and although the doctor had given him the all-clear to fly, I was concerned about collapsing lungs and other stuff well-meaning family members had mentioned before our flight. So when we located our seats, and we were separated by both an aisle, and two people, I nearly lost my shiz and burst into tears right on the damn flight. The girl sitting beside me didn't want to trade seats with Ryan, she had a window seat, after all.
The flight was long, and boring, and stressful. At one point, I went to the bathroom, and sat on that little flight toilet, with cool wind blowing up my ass, and cried. Snot was running down my face along with tears, my hair was barely brushed, and my eyes were bloodshot. One word: HOT. I didn't even really know why I was crying, I was just tired, and spent, and stressed, and tired. So I get back to my seat, and decide that it's time to check out another movie, and lo and behold... Julie and Julia was on. Joy! This is the Jazz Hands part of the entry... JULIE AND JULIA! Jazz Hands!
Anyways, I watched. And I loved it. Following the 'character' (she's a real person, so I find it hard to use that description without any sort of quotation marks... or air quotes, for that matter) through her struggles, her emotional ups and downs, and through the conception of this plan, to cook through a ridiculously difficult cookbook and blog about it, was epic. To me, anyways. I realize some people reserve the word 'epic' for other things, but this one is mine and I choose to use it here! I felt like I knew her, like I was her, to a certain extent. And I thought, hey... there are other people like me. Not everyone has their shit together. This girl is smart, and funny, and she doesn't have her shit together (just yet... it comes, soon enough, of course) so I'm totally not alone.
I know it was probably arrogant of me to feel 'alone'. Like I was the only person with this struggle or something. But the majority of my close friends are 'University Educated', working on a Masters, employed in a 'proper career', or looking to start theirs with a shiny new degree. I was a smart kid in school, but missed a lot of high school due to being sick. When I was there, I was a top student. But being sick and being so behind all of the time has it's impact, and my grades slid. It closed a lot of doors to me, and at the time, I told myself I didn't care because University totally wasn't for me. I didn't pursue it after high school, but going to community college first, or anything. I just sort of floundered about, at first telling myself that I would work for a year and then go to photography school.
My parents didn't have any money for school, and I knew that. So I was never really motivated in that respect either. Here is where I differ from all of the crazy smart kids who do something about it, and get scholarships. Not me though, that would have been, in a word, smart! Of course, even if the grades had been there, my attendance record would have excluded me from any scholarships anyhow, but I digress.
It somehow ended up that I just kept working these jobs, and when one would become unbearable, I would take a new one. Eventually, I managed to snag myself a job that could become a 'Career' at a company that was fun, and vibrant, and different. And it did become somewhat of a career. I received two promotions within three years, and me and my fiance were in the position to enter the property race. We adopted two kittens from a rescue shelter, purchased a condo, and were living the 'normal' life. I was slowing becoming miserable in my daily life, however, as the job itself started to wear down on me.
I think this is something that happens to anyone 'not doing what they wanted to do'. To start, the job was great, but over time, it's shiny new status faded, and left behind unpleasant things that were previously disguised by the shiny and new. The company started making policy changes, a new CEO came on board, direction was changed, and the corporate atmosphere was doing a big fat about face. I was miserable, but in a well paying job, with a secure future. The company was never losing money, it was always 'in the black' so to speak, very profitable. Had always prided itself on 'ZERO JOBS LOST TO OUTSOURCING' and such, so we were totally safe, right?
Well we all know how that story ended. And the emotions that I went through - fully detailed on previous posts. But now, what to do with this opportunity? My life was a big fat question, that I could answer however I wanted to. That was exciting. It remained exciting for a long time. Now it's just gotten scary. I remind myself that if it's scary, I'm on the right track, and I'm pushing through it. I guess I'm self-realized enough, that I can finally say it, and put it out into the universe:
When I grow up, I want to be a photographer. *
I still hesitate when other people ask me what I want to do. I know what I want to do, but I'm afraid of their scorn, or their dismissal, or eye rolls. Them thinking that there are other, better people out there, that it's a bad thing to get into during 'this' economy, that it's a pipe dream, blah blah blah. And yeah, it is a bit of a pipe dream. But I'm a bit childish and immature in some of my personal beliefs, and I generally refuse to grow up. I still collect toys, love cartoons, Disneyland, the whole lot of it. And with that, comes my personal belief that just because we 'grow up', doesn't mean we have to give up on our dreams. In fact, forsaking your dreams in the name of practicality is such a sad concept. Somewhere along the way, someone beats us down and programs us to think that we can't have it, shouldn't want it, don't deserve it.
To them, I bite my thumb.... or just generally throw a giant 'Fuck You' their way.
So, essentially, this movie very much came at the right time for me. I'm going to secure myself a DVD copy, and whenever I'm feeling scared, or beaten-down, I'm going to pull it out, watch it again, and remind myself that awesome things, and 'nifty-ness' IS possible, I can have it, I'm going to reach out and grab it. Huzzah!
To Julie Powell, thank you so much. For being brave enough to share this journey, for being you, and for being kinda awesome. Also, my fiance has the same last name as you. So I figure we're practically related or something.
* I fully understand the ridiculous implications of a 26-year old using the phrase 'When I grow up'. But, I'm not 'growed up', damnit! As proof, I offer you this: I don't have a drivers liscence. A topic for another day, and one that causes my immediate and extended family no end of grief and dissappointment, for some reason.
Where I Come Crawling Back To This Half-Assed Endeavor
Hello, invisible and self-imagined blog readership!
I've completely fallen off the face of the planet, but there is good news - the gravitational pull of the Earth was so great, that I was sucked right back in. Which is good, because I was getting kind of tired of holding my breath, or something.
Anyhow, I suppose there is some catching up to do. Here's a very quick recap: After my 'end-date', I started my own small Etsy business, selling witty greeting cards and gorgeous trinkets, became a world class photographer shooting weddings for the elite, traveled the world and marveled at all of it's mysteries, and became indipendantly wealthy.
Alright, so as you may have guessed, that was a bit of an exaggeration. I mostly sat around in sweatpants, watched bad daytime television, piddled around with some crafts, and enjoyed doing nothing. I also spent my first month of free time drinking a considerate amount (with other people, in social settings, no need to worry!) but did actually get up to some traveling. Which was utterly fantastic.
I went down to SLC to meet the mister for two weeks, since he was still working down there after my 'end date', and we had fun exploring the fast and furious pace of bustling SLC. We also got a few road trips in, one to Vegas (woooowieee) and one to Jackson Hole, Wyoming, and Yellowstone Park. The first was bombing through the desert in a rented H3 Hummer, listening to techno and hip hop with a coworker, the second was meandering through a few states just the two of us, listening to Tom Petty (fabulous road trip music) and Pearl Jam. Both were perfect. While the boy was at work, I spent my time reading, surfing the net, sleeping in, and enjoying the free pool at the apartment complex being rented for us. AAhh, the good life. Swimming laps was starting to get me into great shape, I might add!
Once I got back, I still had some 'alone' time, before boy joined me. I spent this time doing a fair share of clubbing, boozing, and participating in drunken stupidity involving kissing crystal skulls filled with vodka, taking pictures of people sticking pens up their noses, and trying to convince VERY drunken friends that they should keep their clothes on in public, thank you very much. Especially while on the Skytrain.
Once the boy joined me, we enjoyed sleeping in on a regular basis, lazing about, spending time with our cats, and doing a lot of, well, nothing. There was also some excitement somewhere in there - we decided to take a leap, and go on a trip to Europe. Neither of us had ever been off the continent before, and he hasn't even been to Mexico yet, so this was *very* exciting. We both fancy ourselves as travelers, and aside from goals like a career, paying off our mortgage and buying a house in addition to the condo, we want to travel travel travel.
Travel we did, for a three week, whirl-wind tour of Europe. We used a tour company, and planned to spend some 'alone time' before and after the trip. The tour company we used was Contiki, which I have mixed feelings about. We chose it because it was economic, and we liked that there was a restricted age group of 18 to 35. We didn't want to wait for 65 year old Frannie to drag her ass back to the bus after a long and difficult bowel movement, when we should really be spending more time sipping wine in Florence. And that was certainly never an issue with Contiki.
Our trip started with us flying into London, spending 3 days on our own there, and then meeting up with our tour group. The tour then took us to Paris, Lucerne, Nice/Monaco, Pisa, Florence, Rome, Venice, Munich, Vienna, Prague, St Goar, and ended in Amsterdam. After Amsterdam, we were scheduled to travel to Berlin for a bit, and then to end our travels with 5 more days in Paris. Unfortunately, my fiance caught pneumonia in Amsterdam, and after spending several days bed-ridden, we flew home on an emergency basis and ended the trip early. I don't think I've ever been so scared in my life. He's had pneumonia once before, which lasted six months and nearly killed him. Since our tour ended in Amsterdam, I was all alone in a strange country, taking care of someone that could barely walk himself to the bathroom. The flurry of doctors calls, travel agent calls, health insurance calls, trip insurance calls, errands to find prescription medication, and pleas to have him try and actually eat was all very exhausting, and emotionally draining. Luckily, he got sick in a country with very good healthcare. Even better, a large majority of the people in Amsterdam speak English. None of them know what the word 'pharmacy' means, but I managed to work it out.
I'm rather proud of myself for making it through that, being so organized, and stepping up to the plate to be the one in charge, the one forming the plan. Because it was really scary, and there wasn't really anyone to help. A few calls home now and then provided emotional support, and the hotel staff were simply amazing. Aside from not getting to see Berlin, or spend more time in Paris, and missing Amsterdam entirely (while we were there for 3 days, all of this time was spent in the hotel. I don't even know what the city looks like by day!) the trip was amazing.
I'm so happy that we gave ourselves a chance to do something like that, and that we have these amazing memories. We've been back for a few weeks, are more broke than we've ever been, job hunting, and looking forward to Christmas. We're not giving eachother gifts this year, simply because we can't afford to. Instead, we're focusing on our immediate families, and have gotten them all something truly meaningful and delightful.
So I've not yet taken over the world with my uhmayzing photography and crafting skillz just yet, but I have a few solid ideas and plans in place. We've been living off of macaroni and cheese, 'splurged' on a bottle of coke the other day, and are occasionally tense. I'm going to need to get an intermediary job before I can really persue photography, simply because I need money for gear, and want to take a few classes to round out my skills and knowledge base.
I'm resolving to write more often, as I find it both enjoyable, and therapeutic. When I was younger, I loved to write, and throughout grade school and middle school, was well known for my short stories. So I guess my claim to fame is that kids in my classes grades 3 through 9 loved my short stories, and were always asking the teacher to let me read them. My favourite writing exercise was something conceived by Mrs. Carston, who taught me in grades 5 and 7. She would give the class a black and white colouring page, and ask us to write short stories centering around the characters in the picture.
I haven't written in years, and realize that any adult with an ounce of post-secondary education specializing in the area of writing will probably find my musings uneducated, boring, and simple, but that's ok. I'll tell myself that, anyways. If I get to the point where people are reading this, and they hate my musings, I'll try to tell myself that at least they don't feel indifferent. Because someone feeling indifferent about your work is worse than them hating it - at least, if they hate it, you've moved them to feel something. Which is almost a success all in itself, because isn't that the purpose of any art form? To make someone feel? Not that I think of this shitty ass blog here as 'art', that feels kind of presumptuous. But anyhooo....
There you have it, my recap in a nutshell. I'll elaborate on certain topics touched upon in this entry, at some point, and even hope to get some picture action going on, but for now, it's 2:39 am and I think I'm going to go eat more chocolate chip cookies. Because that's what unemployed people do at 2:39am on a Monday morning.
I've completely fallen off the face of the planet, but there is good news - the gravitational pull of the Earth was so great, that I was sucked right back in. Which is good, because I was getting kind of tired of holding my breath, or something.
Anyhow, I suppose there is some catching up to do. Here's a very quick recap: After my 'end-date', I started my own small Etsy business, selling witty greeting cards and gorgeous trinkets, became a world class photographer shooting weddings for the elite, traveled the world and marveled at all of it's mysteries, and became indipendantly wealthy.
Alright, so as you may have guessed, that was a bit of an exaggeration. I mostly sat around in sweatpants, watched bad daytime television, piddled around with some crafts, and enjoyed doing nothing. I also spent my first month of free time drinking a considerate amount (with other people, in social settings, no need to worry!) but did actually get up to some traveling. Which was utterly fantastic.
I went down to SLC to meet the mister for two weeks, since he was still working down there after my 'end date', and we had fun exploring the fast and furious pace of bustling SLC. We also got a few road trips in, one to Vegas (woooowieee) and one to Jackson Hole, Wyoming, and Yellowstone Park. The first was bombing through the desert in a rented H3 Hummer, listening to techno and hip hop with a coworker, the second was meandering through a few states just the two of us, listening to Tom Petty (fabulous road trip music) and Pearl Jam. Both were perfect. While the boy was at work, I spent my time reading, surfing the net, sleeping in, and enjoying the free pool at the apartment complex being rented for us. AAhh, the good life. Swimming laps was starting to get me into great shape, I might add!
Once I got back, I still had some 'alone' time, before boy joined me. I spent this time doing a fair share of clubbing, boozing, and participating in drunken stupidity involving kissing crystal skulls filled with vodka, taking pictures of people sticking pens up their noses, and trying to convince VERY drunken friends that they should keep their clothes on in public, thank you very much. Especially while on the Skytrain.
Once the boy joined me, we enjoyed sleeping in on a regular basis, lazing about, spending time with our cats, and doing a lot of, well, nothing. There was also some excitement somewhere in there - we decided to take a leap, and go on a trip to Europe. Neither of us had ever been off the continent before, and he hasn't even been to Mexico yet, so this was *very* exciting. We both fancy ourselves as travelers, and aside from goals like a career, paying off our mortgage and buying a house in addition to the condo, we want to travel travel travel.
Travel we did, for a three week, whirl-wind tour of Europe. We used a tour company, and planned to spend some 'alone time' before and after the trip. The tour company we used was Contiki, which I have mixed feelings about. We chose it because it was economic, and we liked that there was a restricted age group of 18 to 35. We didn't want to wait for 65 year old Frannie to drag her ass back to the bus after a long and difficult bowel movement, when we should really be spending more time sipping wine in Florence. And that was certainly never an issue with Contiki.
Our trip started with us flying into London, spending 3 days on our own there, and then meeting up with our tour group. The tour then took us to Paris, Lucerne, Nice/Monaco, Pisa, Florence, Rome, Venice, Munich, Vienna, Prague, St Goar, and ended in Amsterdam. After Amsterdam, we were scheduled to travel to Berlin for a bit, and then to end our travels with 5 more days in Paris. Unfortunately, my fiance caught pneumonia in Amsterdam, and after spending several days bed-ridden, we flew home on an emergency basis and ended the trip early. I don't think I've ever been so scared in my life. He's had pneumonia once before, which lasted six months and nearly killed him. Since our tour ended in Amsterdam, I was all alone in a strange country, taking care of someone that could barely walk himself to the bathroom. The flurry of doctors calls, travel agent calls, health insurance calls, trip insurance calls, errands to find prescription medication, and pleas to have him try and actually eat was all very exhausting, and emotionally draining. Luckily, he got sick in a country with very good healthcare. Even better, a large majority of the people in Amsterdam speak English. None of them know what the word 'pharmacy' means, but I managed to work it out.
I'm rather proud of myself for making it through that, being so organized, and stepping up to the plate to be the one in charge, the one forming the plan. Because it was really scary, and there wasn't really anyone to help. A few calls home now and then provided emotional support, and the hotel staff were simply amazing. Aside from not getting to see Berlin, or spend more time in Paris, and missing Amsterdam entirely (while we were there for 3 days, all of this time was spent in the hotel. I don't even know what the city looks like by day!) the trip was amazing.
I'm so happy that we gave ourselves a chance to do something like that, and that we have these amazing memories. We've been back for a few weeks, are more broke than we've ever been, job hunting, and looking forward to Christmas. We're not giving eachother gifts this year, simply because we can't afford to. Instead, we're focusing on our immediate families, and have gotten them all something truly meaningful and delightful.
So I've not yet taken over the world with my uhmayzing photography and crafting skillz just yet, but I have a few solid ideas and plans in place. We've been living off of macaroni and cheese, 'splurged' on a bottle of coke the other day, and are occasionally tense. I'm going to need to get an intermediary job before I can really persue photography, simply because I need money for gear, and want to take a few classes to round out my skills and knowledge base.
I'm resolving to write more often, as I find it both enjoyable, and therapeutic. When I was younger, I loved to write, and throughout grade school and middle school, was well known for my short stories. So I guess my claim to fame is that kids in my classes grades 3 through 9 loved my short stories, and were always asking the teacher to let me read them. My favourite writing exercise was something conceived by Mrs. Carston, who taught me in grades 5 and 7. She would give the class a black and white colouring page, and ask us to write short stories centering around the characters in the picture.
I haven't written in years, and realize that any adult with an ounce of post-secondary education specializing in the area of writing will probably find my musings uneducated, boring, and simple, but that's ok. I'll tell myself that, anyways. If I get to the point where people are reading this, and they hate my musings, I'll try to tell myself that at least they don't feel indifferent. Because someone feeling indifferent about your work is worse than them hating it - at least, if they hate it, you've moved them to feel something. Which is almost a success all in itself, because isn't that the purpose of any art form? To make someone feel? Not that I think of this shitty ass blog here as 'art', that feels kind of presumptuous. But anyhooo....
There you have it, my recap in a nutshell. I'll elaborate on certain topics touched upon in this entry, at some point, and even hope to get some picture action going on, but for now, it's 2:39 am and I think I'm going to go eat more chocolate chip cookies. Because that's what unemployed people do at 2:39am on a Monday morning.
Monday, July 6, 2009
Mindset Shift
I find that I function better late at night. Not so late that fatigue has set in, but late enough that the 'clutters of the day' have cleared away, yielded to cool night air and silence in the streets, and a general feeling of calm has descended upon the evening.
I'm starting to reach the outer circle of fatigue at this moment, but I felt compelled to 'scribble' something down before I decided to succumb to that feeling and fall into bed.
I have been, since the layoff announcement, holding on to a certain level of bitterness. OK, perhaps that is an understatement, it's been fairly significant. Aside from envy or jealousy, bitterness is arguably one of the more shallow, useless, and unproductive emotions. It achieves nothing, it sours your general attitude towards life, and it puts a damper on your mood that is quite visible to others. It can even cause you to be so unpleasant that others actively avoid you if at all possible. The cartoon illustration of a little storm cloud hovering over your head is quite apt in this case, because being continuously bitter may be as close as you can get to this in the real world.
This bitterness really is not working out for me. There are various other things that have recently transpired to make my life difficult in the personal realm, and clinging to a deep-rooted feeling of anger and frustration in the professional realm of my life is making it much too difficult to properly handle these other 'events' or 'problems'.
So it's time to let it go. It's time to take a deep breath, and move on. I disliked 70% of my job before the layoff announcement. I've discussed this quite a bit. I think that perhaps some of this bitterness is really caused by a childish, bruised ego. How dare they force me out? I was going to leave. I was going to leave and show 'them' (not sure who I'm referring to there, but I'll still use the term anyways. Perhaps it could be argued that 'them' represents the company) that not only would I be happier elsewhere, I would shave greater success, as well. But now, they are the party that did the leaving, the dumping, the breaking up, if you will. And my pride is shot, and my ego bruised. Instead of admitting that I have succumbed to this most ridiculous line of thought, and instead of facing the immature meanings that lie behind this feeling, I channel it into bitterness. Because that's a lot easier to admit to.
Another cause of all of the bitterness, I think, is fear. Fear of the future. I've noticed that a lot of my coworkers that aren't nearly as bitter, or openly disgusted by the recent turn of events, seem to have more optimism or confidence regarding the future. So, sadly, once again, it seems that this feeling is just an emotion I'm using to mask a possible personal shortcoming. Because I certainly see the 'Future' as a frightening prospect. Don't think that I'm all doom and gloom, and fearfulness, because I do have my moments of optimism, or moments where I am downright excited about whatever is to come, because I do. But they're certainly not as frequent as I would like them to be.
So in identifying these two likely causes of my bitterness, I should be able to successfully eradicate it, and channel my energy into something more positive and productive. I think it may help to examine what I have gained during my time with this company, both in physical or monetary assets, and intangibles that are still of significant value. So in no particular order, here is The List of All I Have Gained:
- the financial stability, and financial means to purchase my first piece of property
- the knowledge that I am more than capable of climbing the corporate ladder
- real world interview skills; the promotion interviews within this company for certain positions can be exceptionally tough, and long compared to others
- a somewhat healthy financial nest-egg in the form of RRSPs, half of which was contributed by the company's RRSP 'matching' program where they pretty much handed us free money
- a limited amount of stock, which admittedly really isn't worth a lot at the moment
- a deeply ingrained sense of camaraderie with my co-workers and peers. This is perhaps the one thing that everyone will miss. The friendships I have formed while working there are among some of the friendships that I most value. It really has been an amazing journey, as cliche and over-used as that statement is.
- a greater level of self confidence. I have skills and abilities that are appealing, skills such as avery deep level of empathy that I would have previously thought of as useless in the corporate world. But it is this exact skill that helped me to stand out on many an occasion, and even a promotion in one instance.
I'm surely missing a few things, but really, that's not a bad list. In fact, it's a pretty good one. Above all, I gained my first insight into how a very large corporation is run, the way it functions within, and the natural 'evolution' of a company like this. Previously, I had no such experience. It's been a very, very eye-opening encounter to say the least.
So this is me, making an active decision to focus on a healthier mentality, and to let go of the bitterness that is really doing nothing but holding me back and pulling me under. I'm sure that I will experience the occasional relapse, but at this very moment - I feel lighter. Like I have had a large weight lifted from my shoulders.
This means that I can really start to focus on 'moving on', and focus on what is ahead of me, instead of what I'm leaving behind.
And that, is a very good thing.
I'm starting to reach the outer circle of fatigue at this moment, but I felt compelled to 'scribble' something down before I decided to succumb to that feeling and fall into bed.
I have been, since the layoff announcement, holding on to a certain level of bitterness. OK, perhaps that is an understatement, it's been fairly significant. Aside from envy or jealousy, bitterness is arguably one of the more shallow, useless, and unproductive emotions. It achieves nothing, it sours your general attitude towards life, and it puts a damper on your mood that is quite visible to others. It can even cause you to be so unpleasant that others actively avoid you if at all possible. The cartoon illustration of a little storm cloud hovering over your head is quite apt in this case, because being continuously bitter may be as close as you can get to this in the real world.
This bitterness really is not working out for me. There are various other things that have recently transpired to make my life difficult in the personal realm, and clinging to a deep-rooted feeling of anger and frustration in the professional realm of my life is making it much too difficult to properly handle these other 'events' or 'problems'.
So it's time to let it go. It's time to take a deep breath, and move on. I disliked 70% of my job before the layoff announcement. I've discussed this quite a bit. I think that perhaps some of this bitterness is really caused by a childish, bruised ego. How dare they force me out? I was going to leave. I was going to leave and show 'them' (not sure who I'm referring to there, but I'll still use the term anyways. Perhaps it could be argued that 'them' represents the company) that not only would I be happier elsewhere, I would shave greater success, as well. But now, they are the party that did the leaving, the dumping, the breaking up, if you will. And my pride is shot, and my ego bruised. Instead of admitting that I have succumbed to this most ridiculous line of thought, and instead of facing the immature meanings that lie behind this feeling, I channel it into bitterness. Because that's a lot easier to admit to.
Another cause of all of the bitterness, I think, is fear. Fear of the future. I've noticed that a lot of my coworkers that aren't nearly as bitter, or openly disgusted by the recent turn of events, seem to have more optimism or confidence regarding the future. So, sadly, once again, it seems that this feeling is just an emotion I'm using to mask a possible personal shortcoming. Because I certainly see the 'Future' as a frightening prospect. Don't think that I'm all doom and gloom, and fearfulness, because I do have my moments of optimism, or moments where I am downright excited about whatever is to come, because I do. But they're certainly not as frequent as I would like them to be.
So in identifying these two likely causes of my bitterness, I should be able to successfully eradicate it, and channel my energy into something more positive and productive. I think it may help to examine what I have gained during my time with this company, both in physical or monetary assets, and intangibles that are still of significant value. So in no particular order, here is The List of All I Have Gained:
- the financial stability, and financial means to purchase my first piece of property
- the knowledge that I am more than capable of climbing the corporate ladder
- real world interview skills; the promotion interviews within this company for certain positions can be exceptionally tough, and long compared to others
- a somewhat healthy financial nest-egg in the form of RRSPs, half of which was contributed by the company's RRSP 'matching' program where they pretty much handed us free money
- a limited amount of stock, which admittedly really isn't worth a lot at the moment
- a deeply ingrained sense of camaraderie with my co-workers and peers. This is perhaps the one thing that everyone will miss. The friendships I have formed while working there are among some of the friendships that I most value. It really has been an amazing journey, as cliche and over-used as that statement is.
- a greater level of self confidence. I have skills and abilities that are appealing, skills such as avery deep level of empathy that I would have previously thought of as useless in the corporate world. But it is this exact skill that helped me to stand out on many an occasion, and even a promotion in one instance.
I'm surely missing a few things, but really, that's not a bad list. In fact, it's a pretty good one. Above all, I gained my first insight into how a very large corporation is run, the way it functions within, and the natural 'evolution' of a company like this. Previously, I had no such experience. It's been a very, very eye-opening encounter to say the least.
So this is me, making an active decision to focus on a healthier mentality, and to let go of the bitterness that is really doing nothing but holding me back and pulling me under. I'm sure that I will experience the occasional relapse, but at this very moment - I feel lighter. Like I have had a large weight lifted from my shoulders.
This means that I can really start to focus on 'moving on', and focus on what is ahead of me, instead of what I'm leaving behind.
And that, is a very good thing.
Sunday, June 28, 2009
Drained
More than anything, I find myself feeling completely and utterly exhausted at the end of each work day. It's as if the life is being sucked right out of me, my energy being drained. I'm not sleeping well, and having nightmares each night. The nightmares can mostly be attributed to other things, but work does find a way to haunt my dreams.
I wonder how long it will take me to 'de-program' myself. I want to forget every policy, forget every acronym, every marketing line. I don't want to 'put the shazam in the cha-ching', and I don't want to 'shop victoriously'. I just want the end to come, and for my life to move forward. I will however really miss my friends, and it is difficult to think that all of these people, are people I will no longer see or speak to on a daily basis.
I'm not concerned about those I'm really close to, I'm sure we will find a way to stay in touch. More so, the people that I am not really close to, but enjoy interacting with. The people I really like, but due to various circumstances of life, may never see again after all of this. That is a weird feeling. It's also weird to think that this group of people, once very much connected by this one idea, this one location, one job, will no longer be connected in any way.
That not only will I no longer be there, and my friends will no longer be there, that it will simply just cease to exist. I may sound stoned; I'm not. I just find this to be a very difficult concept to grasp, a mind-blowing revelation, and a debilitating thought. It will all just cease to exist. Not just the bad, but the good, and the awesome. Gone. If I may, I'd like to be melodramatic for a moment and say that it reminds me of that famous quote from Star Wars: "I feel a great disturbance in the Force. As if millions of voices suddenly cried out in terror, and were suddenly silenced".
I'm tired of putting any sort of emotional energy in, because I'm surely not gaining anything in return. In fact, if this was a friendship, most people would recognize it as a toxic friendship, or an emotional vampire, and urge me to cut it loose. I put in -just- enough to get by on a daily basis, in the hopes that it won't take anything more out of me.
And I suppose, in the end, that's what it's all about - surviving.
I just wish I didn't feel so damn exhausted all the time.
I wonder how long it will take me to 'de-program' myself. I want to forget every policy, forget every acronym, every marketing line. I don't want to 'put the shazam in the cha-ching', and I don't want to 'shop victoriously'. I just want the end to come, and for my life to move forward. I will however really miss my friends, and it is difficult to think that all of these people, are people I will no longer see or speak to on a daily basis.
I'm not concerned about those I'm really close to, I'm sure we will find a way to stay in touch. More so, the people that I am not really close to, but enjoy interacting with. The people I really like, but due to various circumstances of life, may never see again after all of this. That is a weird feeling. It's also weird to think that this group of people, once very much connected by this one idea, this one location, one job, will no longer be connected in any way.
That not only will I no longer be there, and my friends will no longer be there, that it will simply just cease to exist. I may sound stoned; I'm not. I just find this to be a very difficult concept to grasp, a mind-blowing revelation, and a debilitating thought. It will all just cease to exist. Not just the bad, but the good, and the awesome. Gone. If I may, I'd like to be melodramatic for a moment and say that it reminds me of that famous quote from Star Wars: "I feel a great disturbance in the Force. As if millions of voices suddenly cried out in terror, and were suddenly silenced".
I'm tired of putting any sort of emotional energy in, because I'm surely not gaining anything in return. In fact, if this was a friendship, most people would recognize it as a toxic friendship, or an emotional vampire, and urge me to cut it loose. I put in -just- enough to get by on a daily basis, in the hopes that it won't take anything more out of me.
And I suppose, in the end, that's what it's all about - surviving.
I just wish I didn't feel so damn exhausted all the time.
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Just Another Ordinary Day
Today was one of those days, where I wanted to be anywhere but at work. My heart was not it in. I was threatened with legal action twice. That is actually a good day, believe it or not! I will say this; since we have been laid off, me and my coworkers have gotten to talking more, mostly about non-work related stuff. I have gotten to know so many more people, and learned so much about those I call friends. So I guess this could be considered a silver lining?
Some of the conversations we have are priceless. Laugh out Loud, abdomen-hurting priceless. Being at work after being laid off is almost like everyone being drunk at work - personalities change, and people are much, much more laid back. They're also more likely to offer information about themselves they may not have otherwise revealed. Inhibitions decrease, and we do have a good amount of fun, when we aren't busy doing the job we hate, or thinking about the 'future'.
Nothing out of the ordinary happened, we all went about our business, and I was sleepy for most of the day. I spent a significant amount of time staring out the window to my right, it has an amazing view.
Some of the conversations we have are priceless. Laugh out Loud, abdomen-hurting priceless. Being at work after being laid off is almost like everyone being drunk at work - personalities change, and people are much, much more laid back. They're also more likely to offer information about themselves they may not have otherwise revealed. Inhibitions decrease, and we do have a good amount of fun, when we aren't busy doing the job we hate, or thinking about the 'future'.
Nothing out of the ordinary happened, we all went about our business, and I was sleepy for most of the day. I spent a significant amount of time staring out the window to my right, it has an amazing view.
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