She Wanders

On Getting Fired: You win some, you lose some.

So today marks a first for me. The first time I have ever been fired. And to be honest, it is probably one of the happiest days I have had in ages. I kind of saw it coming, I think my boss could feel my lack of inspiration when it comes to charm sales, but oh well. Fuck it. 

I got into work today, after three days off, expecting another monotonous day in the glass horseshoe trying to sell people over-priced jewelry. I arrived early and sat in the back as per usual, drinking my coffee and hating my life. My boss said he needed to talk to me, which I saw as a perfect moment to talk to him about my absence on Saturday. This conversation quickly turned into him telling me that they were ‘letting me go’ as I was still on probation, and being sick without a doctor’s not is not permissible. He then went on about other ‘weird things that had been happening’ that didn’t sit right with him, and how he just felt that I didn’t fit in the with team, and how he really wanted it to work out.

I’ll admit it. I was really caught off guard, I knew I was going to be penalized, and while my intuition told me I was most likely going to wind up fired, I tried to stay positive. Of course (because I am totally PMS-ing) I left there and turned into a sobbing sack of tears. All I could think was that I was going to have to move back to Ottawa, that I had failed completely, and that there was absolutely no hope at all left for me to live this dream life I had decided I wanted when I packed up and left.

Not even twenty minutes later, it was like I had an epiphany. Suddenly, I had more positive reinforcement than I knew what to do with from my friends and family. Apparently my brother, my roommate, and my friends who work for G Adventures banded together and petitioned for me. From all the way in Barbados, they sent messages to the head of sales insisting that they give me another shot at an interview. And then something magic happened, G agreed. 

The most hilarious part of it all is that I had made some crack to my brother about how I would quit my job today if G would give me a shot (and apparently the universe heard me). So my last chance to get opportunity to work my dream job is at 12:30 pm on Monday. I have never been more nervous and excited in my entire life. 

With all of the negativity I was feeling not three hours earlier, my mood completely flipped. I realized that sometimes all you need to do is put some positive energy out there. REALLY, REALLY OUT THERE. You need to tell the universe that you are not going to take no for an answer. You need to take the universe by the balls, and tell it what you want it to do. I did learn a hard lesson today; sometimes people just aren’t going to like you. Sometimes, when you’re weird as fuck( like I am) people who work in swanky jewelry stores might just think you’re an idiot.

Never forget though, that some people will praise you for your individuality. Some people will love the fact that you will be yourself, regardless of how strange you may be. Some employers have staff that thrive on the strange, the wild, the unknown; and when I have my interview on Monday in the ball pit (Yes, a McDonald’s play place style ball pit) I will put all my strange quirks on the table. I will let them know that I moved to Toronto to get this job. That I probably will never stop until they give me a chance to show them what I’ve got to offer, and how badly I want to grow within the company and see the world along the way.

If anything applies to today’s life lessons in the work world, it is the sound advice of a shoulder shruggin’, mean-muggin’ filmmaker. “You win some, you lose some.” Sure, I lost my job. I was thrown completely out of my comfort zone, and for about two hours I had an existential crisis where I thought my world was crumbling down. But if it wasn’t for my getting fired, I might have never have gotten my interview at G. So maybe I did lose a little, but the lesson I learned today, and the realization that I am definitely not as alone in the world as I sometimes feel, made a few tears over a shitty job completely worth it. 

So I gotta give big up’s to the universe, for bitch-slapping me in the face and reminding me that things are not always as easy as we want them to be, but the things worth fighting for are sure as shit always worth it. 

Aura

Some people, like objects, like moments, like music, resonate more than others. I suppose the term more popularly used is aura. Some people, you know, they have this aura. And it shines, it shines so fucking bright, that when you look at them it’s nearly blinding. The saddest part about it all, is they can’t even see it themselves. They go about their daily lives without the faintest clue that they are lighting up the room, like a kaleidoscope, with shades of pink, and yellow, and pale blue.

Your aura is incredible. I can’t help but be captivated by it’s dull glow in the dark room where we sleep. The colors paint the wall like the northern lights, and I do my best to memorize each and every new shade that I find in you.

I think this is one of the things that keeps me going. That glimmer of hope that even when I can feel myself fading, somewhere out there someone can see the colors I cast. 

You may not be someone else’s northern lights. You may not resonate to them like acoustic guitar, or summer rain; but the colors coming from you are bright enough to light your own way if just concentrate hard enough.

You are luminescent.
You are beyond verbs, and nouns, and adjectives.  
You are color.
Shades of lavender, sea foam, and indigo. 
Anti-monochromatic.
You are the subtle glow of lightening bugs in a prairie field.

The northern lights do not cease to shine because no one is around to soak them in.

On Getting Knocked Down

I know that I am not the first person in my life to complain, especially about times when things don’t go my way. There comes a point in our lives where we just need to accept the fact that sometimes the things we want so badly will be out of our reach, but that shouldn’t stifle our drive to reach for them.

I was talking to one of my close girlfriends this week about the idea of complacency. Often, we fight tooth and nail for things, only to find out when we finally get them that the chase is more fun than the reward. We try to make that other person fall for us, we try to land that awesome job, we move to a completely new city without a plan (ahem), and then suddenly we find ourselves with everything we wanted and still are left feeling unfulfilled. 

I came to this city with a plan, sort of. I wanted to start something new, I wanted to get the job of my dreams, and I wanted to meet new people. At the lack of sounding like a complete fucking cliche, I just wanted to broaden my horizons. Ottawa left me feeling stifled. Had I not fallen in love, I would have jumped ship to Europe two years ago, instead of learning the hard way that sometimes you put your whole heart into things and they don’t work out. Thankfully though, I think that was the most important lesson I have probably ever learned. And there are days like yesterday, where it gets really hard. I can get so down on myself that I just can’t shake it, and I find myself pushing the people who make me feel better away. Those lows, though, always remind me that I have a thousand other things to keep me smiling. 

I woke up today with a brighter outlook. Maybe it was thanks to that viral video of the guy who died of cancer, maybe it was because I didn’t have hives all over my body from my cat sleeping on my face, maybe it was because my roommate left me cigarettes, or because it’s payday, or because I get to talk to a really cute filmmaker on the phone several times a day. I don’t know. I just know that sometimes I need to be upset. It’s like my aunt always told me, “Sometimes you just need a good cry.”

I always have the same quotation playing in the back of my head, thanks to dear Mel. “When we long for a life without hardships, remind us that oaks grow in strong contrary winds and diamonds are made under pressure.”

So what if I got the email today telling me I didn’t get my dream job (again), I will not stop applying. So what if I don’t know where I’m going to be in five years, or five days, or five minutes. So what if maybe I haven’t got a perfect hold on my finances, or I can’t decide what I want to take as a career path. These, in my mind, aren’t failures. They are more like tiny lights guiding me down whatever tunnel I seem to be walking through. Working my shit out; emotional, personal, professional, romantic or otherwise, these are not road bumps. They are just the facts of life.

The idea of complacency is scary. Once upon a time I was in a happy relationship, making money, and finishing my university degree. I was convinced I was with a man I could spend the rest of my life with, but I still felt like I was missing something. I need fire, and exuberance  and passion.  I love the fight, and the grit, and the wonder how I am going to afford to live for the next week. I would trade complacency for uncertainty any day. I love the mystery of not knowing. Don’t they always say that ignorance is bliss?

While I don’t totally agree, I can at least say that uncertainty is interesting. So what? Really. It’s all about perspective. Not sweating the small stuff. Not searching for labels, or promotions, or happiness in superficial things. And we are all guilty of it, I would be the last person to say that I don’t feel better when I buy myself something shiny, and new. But all things in moderation, right? If we had all the good things all the time, we would fail to appreciate them.

So the next time you miss home or your old friends, remember that they are only a phone call away. The next time you miss your ex-boyfriend, remember that sometimes good things fall apart so better things can fall together. The next time you are worried about finances, remember that ramen noodles are delicious, and that the filmmaker lives on the ‘maybe toast’ diet. And the next time you are worried about where you are going to be in five years, remember that you can still smile knowing that you have five years to figure it out. 
 
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p_RqWocthcc

Finale

It’s raining.

No, it’s not just raining. It’s pouring from the heavens. And I’m trapped outside without a jacket, and I am soaked to the bone. And you’re standing there, your clothes are drenched, and those goosebumps that started at your wrists have moved along to every other inch of you. And all I want to do is take your wrists, and pull your hips into my hips, and keep you warm with whatever warmth I have left. But ever since we decided that we could no longer keep each other warm, the idea of reaching out to you seems just as difficult as preforming any number of miracles; even magic seems more plausible. So instead I wrap my arms from shoulder to shoulder across myself.  I watch you stand there and shiver. Those shivers that you used to send up and down my spine, they have been reduced merely to memory. And while I look at your face, and your lips, and your neck, I imagine the way my lips used to trace every inch of you. Instead now, I bite them as a means to hold myself back and I stare. I wonder if you still taste like cinnamon and cigarettes. So I stand there in the rain, and I watch you walk away, like I have never seen you walk away before. And it might possibly be the hardest thing I have ever had to watch, aside from all the times you have walked away before. But this time it feels more palpable, more real.The pounding of the thunder seems equal in amplification to the pounding of my heart, equal as well to the sound of your footsteps. And so I stay standing in the rain, and I am soaked to the bone. And I wonder if this time is the last time I will ever see you walk away, again. 

Are you a serial killer?

So the thing about internet dating is that it is both exhilarating and terrifying at the same time. There is something I love about the idea of meeting a stranger, about being able to pick their brain. I want to know every single thing about them. I just like to know people. It’s rarely about making friends, or finding the one, I think most of the time it’s about reassuring myself that there are people out there who are much stranger than I am, at least that is my hope.

This internet dating this started as a fun way to cope with a recent break up, but it has turned into my own little social experiment. As someone who is new to the city, I love the idea of getting to know it through the eyes of a stranger. While I have spent a significant amount of my time wandering around on my own, wandering around a city I barely know, with a person I barely know makes it even more exciting.
 
The past two weeks have lead me to meet some interesting chaps. From James, the date boy who turned out to be kind of a pansy when it comes to horror movies, but a giant Magic Card dweeb which was both adorable and hilarious all at the same time. Alex, his attractive roommate who I accidentally clicked more with, leading me to essentially stop talking to James completely and instead hang out with Alex (classic Vanessa). Last but not least Justin, the super-babe tatted out film maker with one thousand awesome stories. I can’t deny that I have been outrageously successful in my endeavor.

There is always that moment though, when using a website such as POF, where I have this extreme internal debate with myself. I don’t consider myself a babe, in any sense of the word, but today when I logged on I had 93 received messages. REALLY? 93? How in the fuck could 93 strangers read my profile and think I was worth some form of social interaction. I mean, I didn’t open all of them. I typically screen using a variety of qualities including whether or not they smoke, if they are shorter than 5’10, if they are intelligent enough to use full sentences.. that sort of thing. As I scrolled down the page of screen names such as sexi4u89, I started to wonder what people think when they check my profile out. I mean, I tried to be as reasonable as possible. I didn’t omit my most predominant qualities; I am a complete goof, I love to read, I love squirrels. You know? That sort of thing. 

Once I sift through all the bullshit, I decide which ones are worthy not only reading, but replying. I find at least two, and here we go. I send the obligatory ‘look how witty I am’ response, and see what happens next. The strangest part of this whole interaction, is the minute the men actually reply. My first response, my initial feeling, is that any man who responds to me is one of two things.

1) He is just looking to get laid. This is always my first thought. No matter how attractive, or smart, or funny he may be. I always assume he is coming into this with an agenda. I can’t help it. I suppose it’s because I know I have my own fucked up weird agenda about using him for my own personal social experiment. But truly, inherently, I believe that every man is a lying sack of shit just hoping to get his p in the v. (Yeah, yeah. I said it. Get over it) But really, I’m sure that at least 69% of them are. (har-har.)

2) I assume he actually wants to kill me. After communicating with them through about 4-5 messages, and he hasn’t out right told me how desperately he wants to bone, I next assume he actually wants to harvest my organs. This is normal, right? I mean, maybe I have a fucked up sense of the way people truly are, or maybe I have seen too many horror movies, but I will consistently assume that this handsome gentleman asking me to dinner actually wants to put my body through a meat grinder and feed me to his pet guinea pig. 

Once I move past my fear of decapitation, I will typically just start to ignore them. Which inherently makes me more fucked up than any of them? Maybe I just was bored and wanted someone to talk to who wasn’t my best friend. Maybe I just wanted to cheat death (which, I know, doesn’t count if I never actually go through with the date) or maybe I just wanted to know that I wasn’t the only person out there desperately seeking something. Whether it be sexual gratification, or body mutilation, or the least likely of all on internet dating sites, actual companionship.

I guess I can’t only blame the men here, I am using them just as bad as they are using me, considering that out of the probably 10-15 men I have promised to meet up with in the last month I have only actually met two, who were ACTUALLY really decent, and awesome people. One of which I actually think is the world’s sweetest man. I think that as much as we all pretend to be well-adjusted single people, there is always that over-whelming fear that we will end up alone and under-appreciated for the rest of our lives. Or once again, maybe that’s just me.

I’m not saying that I’m using POF to validate myself. Or maybe I am. But I have made a truly wonderful friend out of the experience so far. Not saying I’m done with it. I have legitimately spent almost three hours today playing on the internet, scanning through profiles and messages and trying to imagine which one of these people wants to slice my face off. And maybe you’re not a serial killer, and maybe you’re a sweet guy, or maybe you’re a sweet guy who wants to slice my face off. Either way, you made me feel a little bit better about myself today with your sexually invasive comment about what you wanted to get all over my glasses.

So thank you, random men. Thank you, POF. I don’t know how I would have made it through Monday without you. 

March 5th, 2013.

It hung low in the west, and he touched the small of her back. And she wondered while she looked out over the rooftops, over the tips of the trees and towards the horizon, if his lips had always tasted that sweet?

It might have just been the lingering taste of the tangerines they ate together earlier that day. She had kissed many before him, but she could never remember any of them tasting like summer wine. She thought maybe this is what love tastes like? When two peoples chemistry is so electric that it makes every interaction feel like euphoria. When the simple sound of someone breathing can take your breath away.

If she measured her life in moments, and she categorized them accordingly, she knew that each part of him would need it’s own column. His cheeks, kneecaps, his shoulder blades, his fingers. It isn’t all as simple as it seems, these feelings that had suddenly started to explode. They permeated her skin coloring the world with electrifying hues which she was sure she had never seen before.

No longer dull, and grey; the monochromatic way the sun faded behind the buildings had been turned into a fireworks show. She counted the freckles on his arms, as she curled her fingers into his. As the rest of the world watched the day fade into darkness, she found herself surrounded by a light which she hoped would never go out.

One girl, one thousand charms, and one cute filmmaker.

The life I had anticipated upon arrival is of course not the life I have found myself living. Nearly a month after my transition, I can’t help but be lost somewhere between there and here. That’s always how it is, I suppose. It’s fucking cliche to say that these moments are fleeting, but I’d be an idiot to declare otherwise. So I’ll be a straight shooter.

I arrived with zero expectations apart from happiness, and I have gotten so much more. Sometime in these last few weeks, Vanessa got her groove back. (Insert laughter.) But really. Maybe all I needed to know was that life didn’t end when the relationship did. (Yeah, yeah I know. I sound like an idiot) but we all know how break ups work. You cry, and curse, and drink too much and bitch to just about everyone you know - well, maybe that’s just how I deal with them. But thankfully, this time is different.

I put myself out there. I have disconnected from whatever ties I had that were holding my back, and I started fresh. Somehow, by the grace of god, two things happened.

1) I started to smile again, a lot. And ladies and gentleman, let me tell you, I whole-heartily believe that confidence is key. The happier I feel, the better things feel around me. We get back what we put out, I’m sure some religion told me that sometime. Anyways, I just wanted to let you all know it’s true.

2) Gentlemen exist. They are out there. Those boys who will open doors, and call you beautiful, and make you feel extraordinary even when you know like you look as though maybe you just got run over by a mack truck. And that is important too. Whether you are hearing it from one, or one thousand. Reassurance helps feed the fire. Keeps you chuggaluggin’, and you better believe I am moving at warp speed these days.

This one, the filmmaker, he is a doozy. Cute as a button, and a sweetheart to boot (not to mention he has the world’s most adorable dog) I guess we all know I have found myself in this situation before (cause and point, Shawn, the the mistake that made me realize I should be more cautious) but I assure you this time I have done a mostly rigorous background check, and this one seems legit. He does that thing where he makes me laugh, and he makes me think, and best of all he makes me smile (all at the same time). And while we are nowhere close to serious, I have learned more from him than anyone in awhile. Just be yourself (said in my best Robin Williams’ as Genie voice) the rest will come in good time. 

In all of my comings and goings, I have stumbled upon the idea that maybe we all spend too much time asking too many questions. The where is this going, what are we doing, what do I mean to you (really?) stuff, and it all gets us nowhere. This past week (I know, maybe I’m getting ahead of myself) has reminded me of the importance of just enjoying moments instead of analyzing all of those little things in between.

At this point in my life, I am on the verge of greatness. I’m finding my way after so many years of having my life feel so convoluted. I feel relaxed, and way more comfortable in my own skin. And I suppose I have Filmmaker to sort of thank for that, for however short of a time I’ve known him. Every time I hang out with him, it snaps me back into reality. I can be my silly, stupid self, and people will actually like it. They say that you catch more flies with honey than with vinegar, but I mostly wonder why those people were more concerned with catching flies than just letting them be and getting on with their lives. I’m sick of all the hunting I’m sure as shit no mountain woman, but I already know I can survive on my own. No tricks, no gimmicks.

Girls and boys, it’s about time I grow up. Now all I gotta do is get the job at G, and all things will be in place. But until then, I’m gonna keep on keepin’ on with work, with the filmmaker, and most of all with myself.

vanessa mullin (@vanesscessary) tweeted at 5:05 PM on Sat, May 04, 2013: the ice cream truck’s song is the tune of a jennifer lopaz track #signsthatIliveintghetto (https://twitter.com/vanesscessary/status/330790243475271680) Get the official Twitter app at https://twitter.com/download

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