Hi 5! XL

DO I NOT ENTERTAIN!? Happy Weekend!

The Big Reveal

So I decided that this Friday would be different. Despite what the title may suggest, I will not be posting nudie pics, so that's not the kind of different I'm talking about.

Different because today is the day I quit my job. Despite what the dramatic new paragraph would suggest, I will not storm in to my boss's office yelling "Merry Fucking Christmas, I quit!" while throwing around papers and kicking over garbage cans (although it's obviously crossed my mind). No no, I have a very professional letter all ready to go. I'm just waiting for the opportune moment...ie, after I've had my lunch. If they don't take it to well, they may ask me to leave immediately, in which case I will need a full stomach. So I can puke in the foyer before I leave. Just kidding, that's disgusting I don't know why I wrote that.

I'll finish up this entry with the reaction of the man, soon-to-be-formerly-known-as my boss. But for now let me talk to you! You're obviously more important anyway, even though you read this blog for free and in no way contribute to keeping me fed or clothed. But you feed my ego I mean my artistic spirit, and I appreciate that (can you tell I'm in a good mood? It's hard to focus).

Thus, it is finally time to let you in on my plan.
Step 1: quit job
Step 2: go through all my shit and give away everything I don't want/need
Step 3: spend time bonding with my family and friends to make sure they don't forget me (as if that's even possible)
Step 4: get badass new haircut
Step 5: there are too many steps in this plan, but I can't stop now
Step 6: get on a mutherfucking plane to SYDNEY, AUSTRALIA

Yes, I'm leaving all the glamour and lights and oil money of Calgary, Alberta so I can wander around that beautiful land down under, mooching off my friends and getting over my crippling fear of sharks. And spiders. And snakes. Ok, let's just focus on the fact that it's summer there and I'm going on an amazing adventure!

I've never done anything like this before and I have been alternating between laughing from excitement and crying from terror for about a month now. Thank god for my Aussie pals for constantly expressing how excited they are to see me! I don't think I would have made it to this point without them. Because I am afraid of change and afraid of the unknown. But, as I have been documenting in this blog for the past few months, I'm tired of being afraid! I don't want to hold anything back and I don't want to miss out on any opportunities.

This whole plan kind of started as a white lie. As much as I love and missed my Aus friends once they went back to their homeland, I didn't have any real intention of going there. When my friend Erica passed away so suddenly in February, it was such a shock, and it made me seriously reevaluate what I was doing with my life. It was actually at her wake, where I was trying to be a functioning human and attempting small talk with  people I hadn't seen in 7 or 8 years. They were asking me about my future plans, and I just started saying "Yeah I think I'll travel around Australia for a few months, then go to University somewhere." I guess I said it enough times that it stuck. A while later I realized that if I went away for a few months, then came back to this unfulfilling job in a city I don't really care about, I would probably go crazy. So I started reading up on working visas and making a half-assed effort at saving money.

And here we are today! The plane ticket is booked, my 12-month visa is approved, and I only have a few things left to do (yes, having a massive cry at my birthday/farewell party is one of those things). I can't really express how excited I am to be setting off on my own. I know people there, of course, some of my best friends in the world happen to be in Aus. But I've never gone on a trip independent of someone else, or with my own agenda. It's a fantastic feeling! I've even found a commune I'm looking into staying at for a while! And so this blog will get a lot more exciting, with stories of my adventures, more pictures of me, and less pictures I steal off thechive.com

I'm rambling - - - off to eat my lunch!

(three hours later....) Lunch is eaten and notice is given. He took it really really well and I have nothing interesting to report. Except that I'm letting Frittany out tonight to celebrate!! Lock up your Justin Bieber life-size cut outs!!

A Short Recollection Of Friday Night

Last Friday evening. My friend K and I had just finished dinner and were having a few drinks while I showed him my recent YouTube favorites, mostly Macklemore. I was trying to convince him that we should go out to meet up with some of my other friends; a recent text message from B promised a fun adventure, but K was not giving in easily. I don't know if it was my repeated assurances that this would be nothing like the obnoxious Christmas party I dragged him to last year ("remember that guy who said he owned a bank?!") or the fact that I wouldn't stop my version of hip-hop dancing around his kitchen, but eventually he called a cab.

I made small talk with the cab driver, chastising him for smoking and wishing him a safe night. I could tell K was a bit wary of having to put up with the usual Calgary 20-something nonsense ("where do you work?" etc.) but I knew what was coming. Well, I thought I did. B came down to let us in with a giant, two-headed paper penis cut-out taped to his green singlet. He opened the door, "come on up! It's a dick party!" Of course it was. I made introductions and suddenly we were walking in to his fairly small one bedroom apartment, which had exploded with people. Some I knew, some I didn't, some who knew me and I could only look at them and shrug/smile. There was even a child there! Upon closer inspection, it was just a vertically challenged boy, named R. He reminded me of a Christmas elf and I instantly had the urge to pick him up, but I remembered that night at Vinyl when I was accosted by a 7'2" man and I didn't want to be the overly-friendly-giant.

Music was going, but not too loud, beer bottles and paper dicks were everywhere. I felt warm and fuzzy, thanks in part to my cider. There were impromptu photo shoots that had nothing to do with facebook, I  walked around aimlessly, talking to people - I realized I have a new habit of asking everyone with a decent amount of facial hair if they're a bike courier for some reason. I checked back on K, he was chatting away and seemed fine. I hoped he was having fun, but at the same time I didn't really care. In a friendly way, that is. Someone I knew, D, told me he reads my blog, which I was thrilled about. Then he spent 5 minutes telling me how he knows me better than I know him, and he now has the advantage over me, like a cheat in a video game. That was a bit unnerving, but it comes with the territory and I'm pretty sure he's not a deranged stalker so I took it as a compliment.

We eventually decided to head out into the night. K was complaining about the cold so I called him a pussy and someone started a snowball fight. We were approaching my favorite willow tree in a park on 4th Street so I broke into a run and launched myself up, hoping my mitten-grip didn't slip but mostly enjoying the fact that I was higher up than everyone else. Had a quick chat with the tree, and come to think of it I may have given it a friendly kiss, in case I didn't see it again. B pelted me with a snowball so I chased him down and smacked him (lightly, I thought) in the crotch. He dragged me into the street, promising we would die together in a taxi induced murder/suicide, but changed his mind at the last minute and we all continued to wander the streets. I found myself halfway through a cigarillo before I looked down and exclaimed "what am I doing???" and threw it on the ground.

Eventually our group, about 6 or 7 by that time (K had ditched in favor of 1410, which I have sworn off after my last human-sardine experience there), took over a delightfully small bar called Milk Tiger. I danced and drank and danced more. I suspect I was giving the 68 year old DJ sexy eyes, instead of the nod of encouragement I had intended, because he came over and started dancing with me, which was innocent enough. But he soon mentioned he was leaving the country that night, then asked if I had a boyfriend, and I started to doubt his intentions, while also postulating that he was in the navy and would be shipped out in the morning. I said that sadly yes, I had a bf, and he skittered away quite quickly. I wish I had said I was a lesbian.

A few more drinks and we were off to the Poutinery where I discovered - Mac and Cheese Poutine! With Bacon!! R reappeared to defend my honor against a very bearded and unruly ginger, proclaiming that we had been dating for 9 months and would fight anyone that didn't believe him just because he is short. Redbeard ended up buying him poutine, while my drunk eyes wandered around the room and found a friendly face... I did everything I could with my 3AM brinner (breakfast + dinner) but only ate half of it, and I was suddenly about to fall asleep at the table. Time to go home. In a final burst of energy I gave in to my urge to lift up R, who took that opportunity to climb up my legs/torso as if I was a noble willow tree. That will teach me. Probably.

Water, pillow, bed, blackness. I woke up the next morning and, as I do every morning that I'm hungover, looked out the window and said "fuck you, Calgary", though this time it was tinged with love. Only a few more of these nights are mine to enjoy, looking up at the stars as my breath crystallizes in front of me, crunching snow beneath my boots and talking in my Ethel-voice when my glasses fog up. Noting that my face hurts from smiling so hard.

Fry-Day Hi 5

Let me just say...starting off my day with an almost uncomfortably delicious hot chocolate, which I am pretty sure they added some crack to in order to get me hooked, was probably not the best plan. I was on a bright bubbly sugar high for most of the morning. But after a walk and a sandwich at lunch, I am crashing and my plans to go out tonight are looking a lot less tempting than going home to my sweatpants. Lately I have been accused of actually being 85, instead of only almost 25.

Almost 25...I met up with an old friend at lunch today before she had to fly back home, someone I hadn't seen in about 5 years. I was talking about how I was unsatisfied with life here, that I wanted to move off to a commune (you know, that old chestnut) and she just laughed and said "oh I miss you, Brittany." So I can safely assume that I have always been this way, I've just been trying to trick myself into fitting in with everyone else. It was nice to know I'm not a complete mystery, and it was even nicer to catch up with her, even if we only had enough time to share the highlight reels of the past few years.

It seems I'm always being reminded of how important it is to spend time with people we care about while we can. Who knows when you will get another opportunity. Who knows when something will change, and that moment in time will be gone. And it seems I've unknowingly given myself a pep talk about going out tonight and will not go straight home to my new bf, a tub of Cookies n' Cream ice cream. Hurrah! Happy Weekend and now, the fab 5:

Blue Skies

I was just about to start on another post full of self-revelation and the deep, inner workings of my brain...but then I looked outside and in the reflection of the glass-covered building beside me, I saw a sliver of bright blue sky. 

I've been discovering (and revealing) a lot about myself in the past month, and sometimes it can get pretty exhausting. I feel like I'm making progress and I'm very happy with that - but there are still times when I have to just sit back and exist. No worrying about self improvement, no analyzing for honesty and true meaning, no discussion on the pros and cons of this or that, no grieving for what might have been... Today is a day to be content. 

I'm very happy today because I cut my hair last night. Not like I cut it personally, because that would not have  turned out well. Speaking of, you know in movies where some chick is on the run so she has to cut her hair to change her identity, and there's a shot of her in the scuzzy bathroom of a highway gas station, taking a pocket knife and hacking away at her locks. Next scene she is sporting a super-cute pixie cut and buying a coffee. There is NO WAY she could pull that off all on her own. If some stylist from behind the scenes hadn't popped up, she would look like a total lunatic and someone would alert the authorities immediately. My point - people who cut their own hair look crazy. So, like any crazy person pretending to be normal, I went to the hair salon. 

I thought about it a lot, because I loved having long hair. Hair whipping, hair mustaches, hair-sock-buns, hair beards, etc. It was sexy to flip over my shoulder, pretending I didn't know people were looking at me (I knew). But lately it had begun to feel like dead weight. Something I was just hanging on to for no real reason. So chop chop and snip snip. I thought pretty hard about asking to take some of it home, so I could give it to my loved ones for Christmas this year, but I realized I forgot to bring a container, so looks like everyone will be getting cookies instead (bor-ing). And today, I feel so much lighter! 

There are times to challenge yourself, to examine your feelings and face up to the facts. There are times for change, to take a deep breath and let go of your baggage. And there are times to smile, and know that the universe is always unfolding as it should.  

So today, with my freshly shorn hair, my thoughts are on appreciating the little things. The snow clinging to every tree branch when I walked outside this morning. The bergamot and lavender notes in my tea. A view of the clear winter sky.