Crazy Thoughts

I have to write these down to get them out of my head!

I've been having these scenarios in my mind, what P and I's life would be like if we spent it together. About wanting to get married. About having kids. I feel really happy when I think about this stuff. I also imagine little (big) things like 'oh maybe P is so nice and patient when I'm having my random existential crises because he wants to be with me forever too!' All my design blogs aren't helping either... all they make me want to do it settle down.

Weird and crazy thoughts. They scare me a little. They are evidence of how invested I'm willing to be in this thing.. I wonder until what point..

I'm also very much aware of the fact that sometimes people break up after years of being together.. and that that could happen to us. But I hope it doesn't.

So Many Possibilities!

I'm excited! I'm geeky! I love it!

I'm super pumped to be doing this journal for Vnss's work. I watched Indesign tutorials today! It was great!

Weeeee!

Montreal Toronto and Back

I've spent the last few days thinking about this toronto-montreal question. The fact that I felt so urgently that I needed to find a way to get to toronto made me begin rethinking that urgency. I found myself thinking 'But if I stay in Montreal, it'll be two more years of this?!' That thought scared me, and made me feel like an asshole. Two more years of what? Awesome friends? Awesome boyfriend? Nice apartment? Reasonable rent? Good job? Good food? Familiarity? What was going on inside my head that made me sweep all that under the 'Toronto Rules' rug?!

Talking to everyone has made me know and feel all the great things I have around me. I don't feel desperate. The desperation I had related to the program has also dissipated. I check course by course what Toronto had vs. what McGill has, and come to find out, they are worded differently, but they are quite similar. I'm still worried that somehow I will miss opportunities by not going to Toronto (job-wise, or connection-wise), but I also think that it's important for me to consider where I want to live and make my life. I'm pretty sure it's not Toronto. Besides, I was thinking it could be cool to go there for a class or two, a workshop or two at some point in the next two years. I could create a link that way.

Another major factor influencing my decision is the fact that by saving all this money, I can have the flexibility to travel a little bit, save money to pay my debt, but more importantly, this money would alleviate some of the urgency I could feel after I graduate. The urgency to take a job, any job, to make my payments could trap me in something bad.

I do have a fear that staying here somehow means stagnating, but i'm not sure that's a fear I should indulge in.

I'm still on the fence. (Feedback from the peanut gallery would be appreciated)

Not Really Sure

A lot has happened in the last few days. I went home saturday night until monday for my grandmother's funeral. The trip was lovely, under the circumstances. I feel like I learned a lot about life. I think now I understand why people are scared of love, because I saw how much it hurts to lose someone you've loved for 30 years.

My grandmother was quite ill towards the end, now I can imagine with more accuracy what it's like to see your parent die. I feel more calm about this situation than I expected, but most of my strong emotions are related to my dad, grampa, and uncles. They all seemed fine on the surface, telling funny anecdotes about the past, but once I hugged them (which I couldn't help but do), and held on for a little bit longer than them, I felt them melt completely. I could feel the tense emotion in their arms and backs and chests loosen. Those were some of the most overwhelming moments I've ever experienced. I think it resulted in a subtle reconnection between me and my family. Particularly in the case of my dad, I feel like most of my heavy baggage has been lifted. I feel it's okay that things are the way they are, because at least he's alive.

This situation has given me perspective on what really matters to me. The bursary I was complaining about not getting last week seems insignificant now.

I also just found out that I am not going to be receiving the Ontario Graduate Scholarship I was counting on to go to UofT. I'm not sad I didn't get the bursary, but I am very disappointed I won't be able to do that program. I'm not sure how much I feel like scrounging around looking for money I may or may not get... when it comes to money on this scale, it arouses nothing but the most acute stress. I'm not sure what to do yet, because I still see many good things about staying in Montreal. Being able to stay in the city where my friends and love are, that is not too far from my family in the east, staying in my pretty and affordable apartment with my roomies, paying next to nothing for school fees, being able to continue working at Bummis part-time, possibly taking courses in the design department at Concordia, developing my design things, and probably more things too. I think part of me wanted 'something different', 'and adventure' and maybe a little 'struggle' (because new things are always a struggle for me), but staying here would also give me a chance to do new things. Saving all this money would allow me to travel more, and sooner. I could always go to Toronto for work later.

My friend Arl told me I should stop playing this 'better-worse' 'first-choice/second-choice' game. Just accept Mcgill, be happy and make something out of it. In a way I think he's right, but when I look at the course selection at that school, it tosses everything in the air.

I'm not really sure how I feel about all this.

I suddenly feel like I'm doing something wrong

Today I learned that I am not invited to the cinema school's awards ceremony. This is were students are given awards (in the form of titles and money) for all their work during the year. I'd been invited the two previous years, so I thought it would be a safe bet that I would get invited this year too. I guess I got too sure of myself.

This disappoints me, because this year particularly, I tried very hard to participate in class, share my thoughts, engage with other students, and make things happen. I decided I would be true to myself and my ideas.

I suppose the wise thing to say is: "the reward is in being true to yourself, not in the recognition you get for it", but somehow this feels insufficient at this moment. It has done the reverse: sewn the seed of doubt in myself. "If I can't get awards at this school, after all this time and effort, how will I do it at grad school?" This was not enough. You are not enough.

Fuck film school.

Petit Dilemme - Résolu

I wish I could make a flow chart to illustrate how i felt this weekend. Originally, the plan was to celebrate P's roomie's birthday with all the old friends from Aylmer. Everything seemed to be happening that particular night, because I found out that I had an old friend passing through town for one night only on that night.

Earlier in the week I asked P if I should bake something. He said, 'oh well, one of the other guys' girlfriend is baking something' I reply 'oh, okay.. well, I guess I don't really have time to do it anyway' to which he answers, 'well, you know she's doing her MA, so she's probably super busy too'. And there the seeds of jealousy and competition were sewn. I should say that this also relates to another time last summer when P went to this couple's place in Sherbrooke and came back from his weekend raving about them. Boasting them as superb hosts and a lovely couple. Somehow this boasting translated itself in my mind as 'he is idealizing them and thinking they are so awesome -- are we not awesome?!' (ie. craziness). I stuffed this down into the deep dark corners of myself, and proceeded to want to dazzle everyone with MY cupcakes. I spent 30$ and 2 hours making them, and I arrived at the party thinking I had my bases covered.

I arrived late, so I assumed everyone had eaten supper and dessert, so I said 'if anybody feels like more sugar, I brought some cupcakes'. As P greets me and we go into the kitchen he says, 'well Mdln already brought cupcakes. So we'll eat hers first. Besides, she made them especially for Antn.' To which I reply, 'and who did I make mine for?' Let's just say we got off on the wrong foot. The rest of the night I spent quiet and somewhat bored, because I felt totally excluded from this old-friends bonding thing. I saw P trying to connect with me, touching my hair, hands, shoulders, but I sensed an awkwardness in him. He was clearly concerned about being a good host, which I felt was at the cost of being concerned for my comfort (somewhat selfish.. I know). I also felt threatened by a new girlfriend. One we were all meeting for the first time. I felt jealous that she was mixing better with this group she just met, than I had been for the past year. At the end of the night(after having been able to get but one sentence out of my mouth), we chatted about the girl once she and her man had left. One person commented on how she 'got it', she understood their humor. I couldn't help but think 'whoa.. I don't get it, I don't get it at all!' so where does that leave me?

At the end of the night I was trying to be pleased, since P was really excited that this was the most fun party he'd ever thrown. I felt jealous and distant. The next morning I left early to go have breakfast with my friends before they left town. Needless to say I was pretty cranky.

So, it started with jealousy and competition, which only brought out my insecurities, which were not helped by P's comments, which turned into feeling taken for granted, which turned into a bit of anger and sadness, and fear of having to bring the issue up.

After my workday on Sunday I set up a meeting with the person was geographically the closest to me, because I had to talk about this. I met with Arl right after and we spent almost two hours analysing the situation. We did a lot of work in those two hours, and it is all mixed up in my head now, but basically, he encouraged me to talk about it with P.

I told him I called P earlier to make plans to see a movie that night. When on the phone with P he answered 'mmm... .. okay' with hesitation. In my mind, I understood this as something negative :'he always has energy for his friends or his work! what about me?!' but then, Arl told me he was supposed to have a business-creative meeting with P that day and P asked to postpone because he was too tired. So, the point being, my interpretation was totally false, and in fact, P was agreeing to see me when he cancelled on a work meeting. Sweet! Not selfish!

We went to the movie and after it I started crying. Things came out slowly. We discussed it. He made some points I could agree with. All in all, I saw that he was sorry, he told me he felt awkward, he wanted to make sure I was okay as we parted (he offered to join me at my house, but I told him he didn't have to, since he was right next to his house), and he made plans for tomorrow.

I sent him an email trying to explain this jealousy-insecurity thing, and he sent me a sweet and comforting email back. I think the whole experience makes me a little bit stronger, and makes my faith in our relationship grow stronger. I feel less and less insecure in the me-and-him, but I've still got my me issues to deal with.

In other news, I'm handing in my last film studies paper tomorrow. Meeting a friend for perhaps the last time.

Things are okay in general. I feel excited about summer projects, and, I want this kitchen.

La la la New York

Can I go nowhere with you?

Easter weekend with P's family was lovely. Full of food, fun and more food. Everything was great. There was only on moment, strung next to two other moments, that were a little bit difficult. On sunday P wanted to play basketball. I thought it would be fun too. I've been thinking lately how I wanted to be better at group sports. So we started playing 21. Turns out, I have less hand-eye coordination than I thought I did -- which wasn't much to begin with. I got maybe one or two balls in the net, the rest kept flying and bouncing around everywhere.

I suppose for people who are good at things like sports it would be unpleasant for them to play with unskilled players like myself. P didn't let on, besides a few grunts here and there. While I was basically running around like a chicken with its head cut off -- I quickly realized, it's not that I could never be good at basketball, it's just that I don't actually care that much about being good -- again, frustrating. After a while we stopped. Then spent the afternoon lounging. Later in the evening as his sister was about to drive her boyfriend back to his place, they started playing another basketball game. I think it was called bump. I've never played this game either, and it required more skill, so it wasn't pretty.

After supper, the whole family was going to play a card game called Spoons. The object is to get the lest amount of letters spelling Spoons - each lose gives you one letter, when you get them all you're out. As I was rapidly picking up letters, the family quickly offered me more letters, a longer word ('Spooniette' it turned out to be). Something about this generosity, this kindness struck a chord in me in a strange way.

Playing board games and card games are not fun for me. I didn't grow up with games, so I'm not good at them, because I never developed that kind of thinking. I could say the same about crossword puzzles and such. I never really cared about games -- probably as a defense mechanism, because all they do is remind me that I never had a family that wanted to play games, that wanted to spend time together, that could tolerate each other, that could laugh with each other. So games evoke this kind of painful association, even though I know it sounds a bit strange.

Halfway through Spoons I felt like crying. Something about me putting pressure on myself to be good, about wanting to succeed, about I don't know what. The next day, on the computer with Patrick, playing computer games -- also bad at those -- triggered the tears. Obviously I felt silly, and he didn't quite understand, but he was sympathetic and encouraging. Though I didn't believe him when he said I was good at basketball.

Everything ended fine. We got to the city, went to Bily Kun for a drink with P's friend Erc. Walked home. Bought Bagels. Had a great talk about his work, his desire to find a creative partner, and all kinds of stuff he's usually hesitant to discuss. It felt good. I feel good.

I'm indulging in a sudden Joel Plaskett Emergency revival.

Addictions

Current addictions:

sugar
caffeine
Gilmore Girls
Gmail
Internet

I need an Easter resolution...

New York State of Mind

Just got back from a 4 day trip to NYC with P. Five consecutive nights, four consecutive days, 24 hours per day -- the longest amount of time we've ever spent together. It was absolutely wonderful. Everything about the trip -- except my shoes -- was wonderful. The weather was nice, we did so much stuff! : MoMA, kebabs in Grand Central Station, lounging on the Top of the Rockefeller, hot dogs in Battery Park, Staten Island Ferry for the Statue of Liberty, Staten Island, Wall street, Dakota Building, Central Park, Upper West Side, Greek Restaurant, Lincoln Performing Arts center for coffee, The 39 Steps on Broadway, Union Square, delicious pizza on 14th street, finally finding a greek cup I've been looking for for years, IFC for The Art of the Steal, street food on an alley in Greenwich village, chocolate cake and cupcakes at Magnolia Bakery, burgers and fries at Dumont in Brooklyn, bed, sleep, an 8 hour car ride back to the city with P singing songs and me giggling or sleeping, a brief goodbye and (poof!) here I am.

They say when you travel with someone you get to see another side of this person, the "new" side I saw of P (which wasn't really new, but only more pronounced) was his bottomless patience. When we got to Manhattan and the GPS conked out on us because of the sky scrappers he stayed cool, calm and collected despite all the chaos going on around us. When we finally made it to Brooklyn and we missed turn after turn, he just said "so what's the next street?" in a sweet voice and kept singing.

We didn't get lost for the most part, but on the first night, I was somewhat delirious from hunger and we were not in the right neighborhood for food, but he never got pushy or irritated despite the fact that we walked three (big) blocks in the wrong direction (and despite the fact that the resto I was looking for was closed by that time). He was as happy as a clam the whole time and so was I. It was incredibly easy to be happy around him. We made funny noises and held hands as we walked briskly around town. Both our feet killing us.

Overall, I think i've learned a lot more about P's rhythm in life. Although he's a go-getter when it comes to his work, he's really more a savourer when it comes to life. He inspired calm in me the whole time. It was quite wonderful and now I feel really centered, calm, undramatic. As we parted he said "see you soon" and I thought "it's okay, i'll see you when I see you (and I love you)". I know I shouldn't be projecting into the future too much, but now I really believe that if a long distance relationship is in the cards for us, we'll get through it.

I will put up pictures as soon as I can. I took my camera, so it takes a bit of time to get the film developed. He liked NY, which I'm happy about, considering I've been in love with that city ever since I can remember -- though I think now I'm more of a Brooklyn kind of gal. Oh to renovate a beautiful brownstone.. oh to dream..

Mixed Feelings News

I get home and my roommates asks me if I received his text. I say no. He says, 'you got a letter', I look over to my bed, and there it is, a white 8.5 by 11 envelope sitting on my bed. I walk over to it. It's from the University of Toronto. Something in me says, 'I can't open it'. I wait a few minutes then I do. I got accepted to the program. It doesn't really feel like anything, though I know it should be an exhilarating moment. All I can think in my head is 'it doesn't matter if I get accepted or not, I need that scholarship to be able to go'. That thought takes the wind out of the moment. I call P, he's excited, he congratulates me, I call my mom, she does the same, and reassures me that everything financial will fall into place.

I hope she's right. I know around this time the Ontario Graduate Scholarship awards are supposed to be announced. I figure it's not a bad idea to go on their website to check the status of my application. Something I forbade myself to do before because I knew it would just turn into an obsession. I get on the website, go through the random usernames and passwords I never remember and get to a page where i'm asked to select an option. My eyes look around the page lightning fast and I select the first option I see starting with an 'O', because my application is the OGS. It informs me that 'You currently have no 2009-2010 files online'. My mind is sent into the most intense tailspin i've felt in a long time. Suddenly, the acceptance I got from Toronto was no longer an option, it was forbidden to think about, my whole future was ripped apart in two seconds.

I decide to write a post about the absurdity of life, and it's unfairness, and my disappointment. I want to quote the line that sent me into shock correctly, so I go back to the site (after having done so several times before, as if in disbelief) and for some reason, my eyes aren't so quick to scan the page. I see 4 options, one of which is the OGS option, my option. I click on it and it brings me to a page informing me that my application has been received and is complete. I will find out the results after april 14th.

I cry from the shock of the whole situation. I had no idea I had so much pent-up anxiety about this. I thought my anxiety was all out in the open. Turns out, when everything collapses in one instant, my anxiety is infinitely more acute. Now my eyes are burning, my nose is stuffed and my heart is finally slowing down from the whole thing.

I can't believe this world, in all it's greatness and disastrousness.

Oh Mom

Twice this week, I almost died. Once I went to heaven. It was after smelling my clothesline dried towels. So lovely. The time I almost died, though, that was a few minutes after I get a call from a nice sounding lady called Rose. She informs me that I am, in fact, six credits short of graduation. Then waterfalls came rushing out of my eyeballs. How can this be? How is this possible? I'm so organized! I've been planning this since my first semester! I saw advisers twice last year! This CAN'T BE HAPPENING! Indeed it was, and would be for another three days, since nobody in academia works on fridays.

Basically what I think has happened is a huge misunderstanding. I was told twice that I could graduate in december. I don't know what these profs were thinking when they told me this, but I always left those meetings feeling great, feeling ahead of the game. Why rush things? Why not spread it out over two semesters? Sure enough I did, but then in january I thought: why waste the money on three classes, when I really only need one? All this to say that they didn't realize until last friday that something was wrong with my file, sending me in a panic with not much hope. I'm so over undergraduate studies. I need to get out of here. I can't spend any more time and money here.

This whole thing has sucked the romanticism out of graduation in such huge proportions.

In other news, the week passed by really quickly, which is nice for a change. I was busy trying to console my friend Lé. Trying to tell her that things happen for a reason, even breakups. I think she needs to spend some time alone. I sure did, and I'm pretty sure it helped me mellow out (what does that say!?).

I've got a presentation tomorrow, in french. I've got my lecture notes and everything, but I don't feel ready to say all these things. To formulate sentences.. to express ideas.. in french.. in front of a whole room of.. frenchies. When it's done though, it'll be done and I won't have to think about it. Off to NYC I will go with my sweet P. Four consecutive days together, 24 hours per day, I can't wait!

I really want to find one of those greek coffee cups. And get some Magnolia cupcakes. And run into SJP in the street. I'm bringing my camera for sure this time!

My mom says she wants us to go when I graduate from my MA. I think I would rather go to India or Turkey with her. I wish I had more pictures of her when she was young.

Sweet Suppers

I really feel like having a small gathering with a table dressed like this, except there would be another table with sweets on it, and another table with things to make mini snadwiches with.

Epiphanies and Pompons

Today was a great day! I woke up, took it easy until I went to work at 11, wore a cute outfit, had a coffee date with P and our friend Arl, talked about film, and then had a wonderful epiphany. I've been thinking a lot lately about what my passion is, what I can do with my interests, my talents and my time, and I think I've found a direction. For some reason, the word 'design' was in my mind when I visualized my (ideal) future but I couldn't put my finger on anything satisfactory. I've dabbled in graphic design for about 4 years now, but I've never felt the urge to change career directions for this. Now I think I've found something that makes sense: art direction/production design!

This thought just occurred to me tonight, so of course I haven't thought out the nuances of the job, but I think there is something there, something I can do with my hands, and my heart, and my creativity. I don't want to change direction in my MA, I still really want to do archiving, but perhaps I could give it a try as a hobby. I feel like I'm good at putting things together (this is what I do as a layout editor and editor of the cinema journal). There's something about art direction that I think would touch my emotional side, rather than my thinking side, which I really like. When I was discussing this with Arl he told me to look into art history and color theory. I can just collect images in my mind and call them up when I need them. This is very exciting. I love it when things make sense.

Today we made pompons at work. I made a mini one and put it in my hair.

Open Heart

I just got back from visiting P's family with him this weekend. His mom won tickets to a hockey game so he and his papa went to it, while me and his mama stayed home, baked cookies and watched Gilmore Girls.

I had some very personal talks with her this time. She's the kind of person who's very interested in people and likes talking, so I can't help but eventually spill all my beans. This time though, I got some insight into her life and her marriage. She often says things like 'i'm not perfect' and 'everybody's got a story' but I never would have guessed to what extent she meant it. I appreciated the fact that she shared the difficulties she has had in her marriage. I often feel like I'm alone in my relationship struggles, when in fact, all relationships have struggles. She also said some things about her husband that rang true for P, which I thought was interesting.

The bulk of our discussion though was about following your creativity and putting yourself first. I told her I struggle to reconcile putting myself first with having a relationship. In a way, she didn't reassure me about anything : "Would P not go somewhere or do something because of you?" "no" "then neither should you!" But the conversation did go as far as discussing children. She said "P will want a family at some point in his life; he'll want all the things he had when he grew up. Besides, he loves holidays too much not to have a family."

I think she and P are very similar in their work ethic. She said to me, "you know, P will work a lot no matter what he's doing" and she's right. She also said something like 'you have to love the those things about him'. I think I know what she means by this, but I'm afraid I couldn't love someone wanting to be away from me, that seems destructive and hopeless.

All in all it was a lovely weekend. Lying around, eating, sleeping, watching GG. It was nice to spend three nights with P. At some points, I was excited to put myself first and get things going in my life. I need to keep that feeling.

I'm glad today I'm okay with life questions.

My stepdad will have open heart surgery. Fingers crossed to the max that everything goes well (and that he's able to turn his life around). What a second chance.

Mentally Jumping Through Hoops

This week was okay for the most part. Sunday or Monday I found out that my step-dad had chest pains and was taken to the hospital. This is 5 years after his first heart attack, and many years of continued smoking and drinking. Although we've had a strained relationship, there's no question that I would be devastated if anything were to happen to him. It feels like there are too many people dying around me. Every time my mom calls I always listen to her tone to see if I can hear and anticipate the news that my gramma is gone, or that my step-dad didn't make it through the night.

This news, compounded with the woman's story (see previous post) and various thoughts floating in my head about relationships and expectations lead up to a tense night last night with P. For the first time in the 1 year and 3 months we've been together, I felt cold towards him. Something in me wanted to be distant. 'You put yourself and your career first, fine, I don't need you' ran through my head. These thoughts were totally irrational and speaking to the news of my stepdad more than anything else.

There's lots of change happening around me, and I'm not sure I'm ready to take it all in. I spoke to my mom tonight and she said 'P is teaching you lessons, he's waking things up in you that are about you, not about your relationship. He's making you think about what you want in life and what you want in a partner. You're not waking up as much in him, because he's not allowing it, he's not there yet. He still needs to feel in control'. I think she's right. Part of me worries about all these questions I'm always asking myself. I worry that I'm over-thinking and obsessing, but now that I think about it, it is just a way of sorting out what i want out of life and out of relationships. Logically I know this is a good thing, because, I think I will know when I've learned all I needed to learn from this person.

I have to remember that relationships should be grounded in the present, because the future doesn't mean too much in reality. I was thinking that something in me wanted a promise. Do you want him to ask you to marry him? Do you want to have kids? Well, logically I know neither of these things are promises enough to keep people together, or to make them love each other. Screw promises, you can't promise anything to anyone, because things change so much. Besides, I would never want to coax someone into promising me anything. I know the nuances of promises and questions like 'will you love me forever?' because i know that love could mean different things, it can evolve and it can die. I myself know that I would answer 'well, I will love you as long as i can, but that love might change into another kind of love as time goes on'..

All this to say, today I was very upset with the world. I was asking a lot of it: I was asking for certainty, but all it could tell me was 'everything will be okay'. Somehow that wasn't enough, but after talking to my mom, it seems not so bad.

Besides, I'm consoled by the thought that my mom says her two greatest loves are her children and that knowing we're in the world fills her heart with love everyday. I'd jump through hoops for her.

Oh, pourquoi es-tu si belle?

My coworker found this pretty girl on The Sartorialist blog. Very pretty, very classic. One thing I've noticed about this photographers recent images is that there are always two matching colors balancing the frame. For example, her red nail polish with a red sign in the back. They don't have to be obvious, but just visible enough for the eyes to look, connect and forget in the pleasantness that is in the image.

Two women came into the boutique today. I knew one of them (an ex of my friend) and she happened to also call her daughter Adl. She was with a friend and we began chatting about names. Her friend said her daughter's name was Juliette. She told the story of how they forgot to give her middle names when she and her partner were filling out legal papers at the hospital. She said she sort of thought it was strange because her daughter didn't have her name anywhere, as it is pretty common in these parts for the children to take both parents' family names. She said 'My partner and I had only been together two months when I got pregnant.. I didn't get the chance to want to have children with him, it just happened. Before that I had been with a man for 10 years, we discussed children, we planned on it. I was thinking of baby names that would go well with his last name. Now I find myself with a baby who doesn't have my name, and doesn't have the name I imagined my baby having. In some ways, I still have to get used to her family name.'

The woman looked perfectly content, but something in me felt sad. Maybe her calmness betrayed something, or maybe I just saw my own fear and sadness reflected in her. I thought it was sad that you could spend so much time with someone, imagine such grand things with them and then have it all go to waste, disappear, as if they had never happened. I sometimes worry that that will happen to me.

Of course, if someone is in a good place, a healthy and balanced place, then even such a drastic change can be taken with stride... I suppose it comes back to the question of 'do you want to be in a relationship with someone who doesn't want to be in one?' I don't feel i'm in that situation, but I think it's one of my biggest fears.

I'm looking forward to NYC with P.

Less is More

I just finished watching Coco Avant Chanel. It is far from being a life changing movie, but it did have an interesting impact on me. Audrey Tautou is pretty, that's a given, but what came out of this movie in particular was how pretty dark haired women are. I don't think we think of black-haired beauties in the same way as other beautiful women. Tautou was simply stunning. I also enjoyed her thick eyebrows and straight eyelashes -- both features I've personally been embarrassed about my whole life, for a reason unknown to me.

Also, when sending my application to UofT and exploring the possibility of getting accepted, I made a decision somewhere in my mind that I would cut my hair really short. A new beginning? A new identity? Maybe. I really like this haircut, and now that I've found a picture, maybe I will cut it if I get accepted.



I've rekindled my passion for fashion in the last few days. I fell on a website with Marc Jacobs' latest collection and I thought 'Yes! He did it again!' He did a forties thing in the early 2000s that blew me away, and probably ignited my love for forties fashion.



and



simply lovely.

Beautiful details, always the details.



Now, this girl has the craziest, zaniest fashion blog i've ever seen. I had heard about her last year, but she has since skyrocketed into hipsterdome. She's going to fashion shows and making a name for herself at 13 years old. How do these things happen? I can't wrap my mind around it, though I do appreciate her use of Wes Anderson's favourite font for her blog title. All this leads me to believe her blog is too good to be true, but interesting nonetheless.

Why is Robert Redford so Cool?

Even when he plays ping-pong (with Paul Newman no less).

Mighty Girls!

This week started out rough, but ended up uncharacteristically light and bright. I had a good talk with P earlier this week post-'nobody cares about me!'. It happens to me every year around this time, I get lonely, feel disconnected. I remember two years ago I felt the same way, except I was single, so somehow it felt worse. I remember talking to my mom outside of the Concordia library and saying how I had tried to call my dad and we didn't connect, and I probably felt like my friends were busy (which they probably were -- hey! they were students! duh). I remember feeling totally lost and sad. It didn't feel exactly the same this time, but a combination of factors did cue a reminder. Everybody came to my rescue, of course. I think I have to trust and be more patient when it comes to this stuff.

I just found something on the (don't laugh) Oprah website about the ebb and flows of relationships:

Unlike dysfunction, healthy intimacy pulls away, bounces back, creates infinite fresh configurations. Trusting the rhythm of each relationship, rather than insisting on robotic consistency, will keep you from panicking when someone's boundaries move a bit toward or away from you. Insist on continuous connection with just one individual: your own self, who knows where to draw the boundary lines on any given day, with any given person.

I think it rings true, and it's something I have to constantly remind myself.

The week zipped by. I don't even remembered what I did half the time. I know I saw P on one afternoon. I went to a fish fry at a church with Vnss and Lv. Went to a sweet 80th birthday supper for a friend of P's family. Had his parents and sister over for brunch today -- big success. I made an egg bake with mushrooms and asparagus and goat cheese, with a garden salad, fruit salad, breakfast sausage, cantaloupe, a little nectarine-kiwi salad and some croissant. It was really great. All the colors were so pretty. It made a lovely plate. Before his parents arrived, P and I hung around and talked. It was a nice change. We're usually doing things all the time, we rarely sit on the couch and talk. I like how aware I am of when he chooses to open up. It feels kind of special every time.

I went swimming friday morning, and I had a great rest of day. I should should should go more often... but I'm going to hold off on the pressure for now.

This seems like a pretty cute website. Chin up! Let's be mighty!