05 – Instant Crush

Photographer: Jean-Baptiste Mondino 

Someone asked me once if I get tired of walking around listening to music all day.The truth is, yeah. Sometimes I do.

Realistically? I have small ear holes, and after awhile the ear buds make my ears ache.

But aside from that, no I honestly do not. To me it offers a backdrop that mimics a double-hinged door capable of swinging both ways. On one hand it can serve my mood, whether it be a moment of self-pity or an aimless meander through the city. A fact especially true given that I am free and perfectly capable of picking my own songs. After all, I made the playlist – I can push the door whichever way I want. But then there’s that one moment where you forget that the door swings back, and you’re hit unexpectedly.

This probably just sounds like a load shit, but give it a moment to contextualize. Like any other normal easily impressionable person, shit happens and your emotional cues respond accordingly. In fact, what I’ve come to realize is that somethings are generalizable to the entire population, and it is because of this that people can write love ballads, create rom-coms (romantic comedies for all you abbreviating noobs), or talk about heartbreak in the same “demolishing-the-world-of-kleenex-with-a-tub-of-ben-and-jerrys” way. Everyone rides the love coaster, and everyone’s advice is nearly identical. So when dealing with depressing shit, you plug in to depressing music (cause that’s just what you do, just flip to any montage of any movie where the protagonist is dealing with some sort of epic lost love) – which to me has been ridden with the likes of death cab, the postal service and the XX.

So, you’ve picked your poison. You want to wallow? Go ahead. Push the door in that direction, I mean you’ve perfectly catered your playlist for that exact reason. Just be aware, that when it swings back you’ll get hit with the likes of track 05 – instant crush. And although this song is about some sort of demented love triangle, the name itself and the uppity beat of the song gives you a fleeting reminder of what it was like to have that moment of connection brought on by the slightest inadvertent brush of arm hairs, the childish but not so childish peripheral side stare; or that sudden increase in heart rate when  it feels like you only have five seconds to perfectly (and seemingly effortlessly) craft something both parts intriguing and indifferent to say. This is where you become an overplayed cliche, and know that everything will be okay while hoping it’ll come again: an instant crush.

Do my ears hurt? Yes. But getting hit by that door, damn can it be refreshing.

On a city gallivanting note – my thing this summer has been free outdoor films. Entertainment for those living under the poverty line. I think my love for outdoor films came to fruition during last years open roof festival which was a combination of a local band and a documentary (which is still on by the way). I must also be subconsciously emotionally sadistic in nature, because I have made it my thing to catch the romance themed TIFF in the park series at David Pecaut Square every Wednesday. The selection was just too perfect I couldn’t resist, with the likes of young Cher and Nicholas Cage in “Moonstruck”, the  classic Meg Ryan/Tom Hanks duo in “Sleepless in Seattle” and who could turn down Robert Redford in “The Way We Were”.

FYI: There are free movies playing almost everyday of the week (i.e. Sundays at Christie Pits, every second Friday at the Junction, Tuesdays at Yonge and Dundas). This Wednesday there will be a screening of “Triplets of Belleville” at Harbourfront, which I highly recommend and is a total must see.  Plus it’s pretty sitting outside, and the ambience is always nice.

Donnie Yen on screen @ Reel Asian Film Festival (there is still a free exhibit at the TIFF bell lightbox)

Donnie Yen on screen @ Reel Asian Film Festival (there is still a free exhibit at the TIFF bell lightbox)

Watching a movie with shoes on is so overrated.

Watching a movie with shoes on is so overrated.

TIFF in the park

TIFF in the park + CN tower

NYC in TO

NYC in TO

“if your not busy being born, your busy dying” – bob 

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Quarter century

True to my word, I am back for my monthly post.

Turns out, today is my birthday. I’m officially 25 (I don’t know why I was surprised, I knew this day was coming, but still… it was a shocker).

Birthdays are so weird to me, because I don’t usually feel any different. But today, I actually do feel older. Maybe it’s because everybody keeps referring to it as my quarter century. Thinking of this way almost makes me feel like I’m quarter of the way to dying or something, since who really lives a full century now a days.

Having a sister 10 years older then me, I’ve always seen 25 (or dare I say it… late 20’s) as something of the far off future. But now I’m here at what seems like lightning speed, and man I really feel like I’m running out of time. Or like I haven’t accomplished or done anything at all except perfect my finely tuned academic facade.

So you know what this means right?

1. Tonight is gonna be quite the party

2. It’s time to see the world

3. Starting tomorrow, I’m going to eat healthy (this is more a goal, but thought I’d throw it out there since I’m on the theme of aging. And let’s face it: with one hip surgery under my belt I’m no spring chicken!)

4. It’s time. To see. The world. So important of a point it gets another mention. Which means it’s time to start planning my next trip.

Me thinks I’m going to asia!

Anyways, happy birthday to all you other late birthday bloomers out there. Trailing behind the age pack sucked when it defined your legal status, but you only turn legal once and everyone else will always be getting older first. So I guess it’s not so bad after all.

Birthday or not, hope everyone has the best day ever… because this is, without a doubt, a special day for someone somewhere. And that in itself warrants a few smiles 🙂

These photos by Luis Monteiro puts me in a colourful birthday mood :)

These photos by Luis Monteiro for Tatler puts me in a colourful birthday mood

If it was warm outside, and I had these balloons.. this is what I'd be doing.

If it was warm outside, and I had these balloons.. this is what I’d be doing.

“You’re entirely bonkers…

… But I’ll tell you a secret: all the best people are.”
__________________________

If you’re going to fly through the air into a pile of bodies… you might as well look good. (photographer: Nick Knight)

This was never my intention.

Once a month blogging? Never. I had higher ambitions. I definitely thought I’d stamp the cyber world with some meaningful post at least once a week, and by meaningful I don’t mean life changing, I just mean signature.

Alas, life is up to it’s old antics again. And here I am, one month later, writing a long over due post about nothing at all. Shall I bring you up to speed?

Well, hospital life is improving. I realize I don’t hate the job description as much as I hate being a student in clinical placement. I hate kissing ass, and I hate being a constant shadow, a mute follower. Most of all, I hate being judged. Actually I take that back, most of all, I hate kissing ass. 

I recently finished watching the Disney rendition of Alice in Wonderland. As much as everyone hated it, or thought it was bland… I truly liked it. Although it took me three years to finish it (I am unfortunately forced to watch movie’s in part. This ruins the movie, and I usually forget the previous part by the time I watch the next part.), it wasn’t because I found it uninteresting. The featured quote is actually from the movie. I really liked it, and now it sticks as a sticky note on my computer screen. It reminds me that we’re all weird, and it’s not a bad thing. On the other hand, maybe it just makes me feel better for being a weirdo. But for whatever the reason, it’s my new line.

I also have some superfluous test coming up. It’s something ridiculous like six hours long or some other random amount of time. Why? Because my useless academic institution has self-esteem issues and attempts to compensate by flexing their muscles and forcing us to a write a test simply because they can.

But most importantly, I’m holding a charity winter drive. Long story short, I was walking down the street and saw a homeless person on every, single, street corner. It was raining, it was freezing, it was horrible. So, I looked into different shelters, found one that catered directly to women through an organization that I liked and learned that it was underfunded. This Christmas we are collecting winter jackets and boots for the 30 women at this shelter. We are putting together gift bags for them as well, cause seriously… gifts are awesome. No argument possible. With that being said, if anybody has old winter jackets, scarves, boots that they are looking to get rid of… contact me!

(The shelter we are donating to is called Savard’s House, based in Toronto. The organization is Homes First Society, a Toronto group. More information can be found here: http://homesfirst.on.ca//why-were-here)

Anyways, in the two minutes I have allocated to free time, I found a new fashion photographer that I like a lot – Nick Knight. He’s not new, just new to me. In fact, he’s been around for awhile and I find that what I like about him is that his fashion photography seems more artistic and different from the usual mainstream editorials.

Having been awake since 5 am (using super ninja basic math skills brings me to a grand total of 19 wakeful hours, and here is also where I throw out a reminder that there are only 24 hours in a day), I’m extremely exhausted. My eyes are half open and I can’t bear to waste another precious minute of potentially amazing deep sleep to think of an eloquent way to conclude this poorly written post. (run on sentence, I know.)

So, until next month.

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Off the record.

Back in school, again.

Not having been in an actual classroom style setting in a while I woke up slightly elated at the thought. I mean it was my norm for at least half my life.

But now that I’m here? Ugh. People are asking questions, how is their brain even functioning right now?

I. Am. So. Bored.

Huddled in a corner, I thought I could hide myself enough to test out this blogging app on my new phone. But paranoia has me worried that the man in the compensated suit and slicked back hair is aware that my downwards gaze doesn’t exactly equate to taking notes.

Solution? Crane my neck with occasional side glances and hope that spellcheck is actually as reliable as it boasts.

Every so often, this guy will throw out words that catch my attention and make no sense. Berlin, pie graphs, supplements. Somehow, they are related.

I really need to use the washroom, but unfortunately my tuition money doesn’t go to keeping the door hinges oiled.

Interesting new habit: ever since I started trying to keep up my blog, I find that I’m constantly narrating my life. Like there’s a voice over that talks about little details that I see, or like its an ongoing story told in third person. I think that might actually classify me as crazy.

Heard the word “wrap up” – yay! Heard the word “homework” – boo! (Who even still gives out homework anymore, power trip.)

(Tried to post a picture of frosty leaves I took, don’t know if it worked)

20121019-095643.jpg

Stuffed animals will always be in.

vL=√2(NH/w)

24 hours. This is the time frame in which I give myself each day to complete my daily tasks.

13 hours. This is the time needed to shower, eat, sleep, groom and commute.

24-13=11 hours.

7 hours. This is the time spent at work or school.

11-7=4 hours.

I now have 4 hours per day to fulfill my dreams, to accomplish everything I want to do, and to put another check-mark on my bucket list. Why do I subject myself to this?

I want to live more. I want to love more. I want to be more.

So, I’ll do myself a favour and I’ll subtract my usage of “I”. This only expresses my ego.

I’ll also minus using “want”. This only emphasizes my desire.

The final equation?

Live more. Love more. Be more.

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Autumn trees, a leather jacket and The Beatles.

Charm Magazine – March 1959; vintage fashion photograph

I saw a baby being born today, it was pretty cool. She was premature, and so it was actually not a typical vagina delivery but a C-section. She was tiny, and looked like an alien, but she made it. Kind of offsets the whole death thing.

Being the end of my first week in the neonatal intensive care unit at Sunnybrook, I came out of the hospital to find the weather was perfect. There was a refreshing breeze, a high and bright sun, and it smelled amazing – like autumn. I actually love this part of Toronto; it’s still big enough to feel like a city, but has enough trees to pretty up your surroundings with fall colours and fresh air. The best part of my morning commutes is travelling across a bridge that spans over some sort of forest with a river thingy. I waited for a whole thirty three seconds at the bus stop before the cheap asian in me decided I was going to enjoy the weather and walk home instead. After all, I’ve been on a health kick lately and have picked up doing the “Insanity” work outs and eating healthy (and by doing the insanity workouts I really mean I’ve done two videos which ended either with vomit or unsuccessful searches for feasible surgically implanted abs). Anyways, the important thing here is I opted to supplement my new lifestyle with some fresh air. Plus, my iPod was fully charged, and I was feeling pretty damn cool in my leather jacket.

It was probably one of my most enjoyable solo walks ever. Like one of those commercials where the protagonist gallivants around with a bounce in his (or her) step, a goofy smile and shoots little finger guns at everyone or air salutes little old men. But this time my life soundtrack alternated between various upbeat Beatle’s tracks like “A hard day’s night”, “I want to hold your hand” and “I will”.

Although I had to cross a road that clearly wasn’t made to encourage crossing, only to get to the entrance of what looked like a highway (I wasn’t even sure I was allowed to walk here), it was worth it. One, because I got to take my time crossing my little bridge of trees, two, they were colourful, and three, I felt like I was in the hunger games.

So, 90 minutes, one broken flat, three pounds, deathly dehydration, a leg cramp and a severe foot blister later – I made it home. And I saved a bus token.

Not too shabby, not too shabby at all.

Dear trees, thank you for keeping my air clean, my skies blue and my clouds wispy.

River thingy… my hunger games campsite.