The Beginning

Here we go, delving into the history of my career, or lack of career more accurately.... 

I began, as many 16 year olds do, working at a grocery store. I was a cashier at the IGA.  If I must be truly honest, this has been one of my favourite jobs.  I loved scanning and chatting with people.  I was quick with processing orders, and was sometimes even allowed to work on the express check out lane.  I liked memorizing vegetable and fruit codes.  4011 was bananas, 4060 broccoli.  I started refering to them at home by their numbers instead of their names.  Occasionally when trays of cookies were broken they were brought up to the front for us to eat.  My best friend worked in the deli and would make me delicious turkey sandwiches.  Yes, life was good at the IGA. 

But this is not how I started working there.  I had been at camp for the summer volunteering and came home to look for a job.  My Mom knew a manager and got me in at the IGA.  Although I had been home in August they wanted me to start in September.  They scheduled my first shift for the second week of grade eleven, to start on a Monday.  Unfortunately, that morning I woke up with a raging fever, horrible, awful couldn't get out of bed, too woozy to stand.  Absolutely no way I would be able to go into work.  I pitifully had my mother call me in sick, and then crawled back into bed with a bottle of advil, a carton of orange juice and some sad little tears.  I felt foolish for missing my first day of work, for having my Mom call me in sick, for getting sick.  Little did I know, the universe had a plan.  The universe wasn't satisfied with me starting work on that particular day because it wanted to use the most ultimate foreshadowing this side of the globe has seen in a long time.  Horrified by current events it would be years before I saw the connection between my first day of work and the rest of my professional life.  But once I made the connection, it was clear my fate had been written.  I was destined for a long and uphill battle to build my career.

That's right.  If you haven't guessed it yet.  I called in sick to work on Monday September 10, 2001.  Tuesday morning I went to school for just the morning so I could rest up in the afternoon to start work.  We know how the rest of this story goes.  Needless to say I did not rest that afternoon.  I sat alone, with the rest of the world, in my basement watching the towers crash and the people and the ash and rubble.  Then I cleaned up, put on my brand new green IGA shirt and headed in to work. 

I read a book where the main character makes the big move to NYC to have a glamorous new start and instead ends up moving in to her new apartment on Black Friday and watches the entire world collapse around her.  At the time I had felt badly for her as she tried to navigate her uncertain future and find work in a world where there were no jobs.  Little did I know, I started work on the very day that would work as a catalyst for an economic downward spiral for our American neighbours and ultimately for my own career.

I have no conclusion.  I am here to state facts.  You, my wonderful readers, are the ones to draw conclusions from my stories of employment and help me to determine where I went wrong and how to right my wrongs and lead me to the path of success and vacation time and sick days and weekends and pay that is high enough to buy me groceries.

As an aside, I also had a book review for you.  If you are fascinated by the events of September 11, and are interested in a look at how the survivors started the huge task of rebuilding their lives and families and their own jobs, there is a fantastic book called, The Woman Who Wasn't There by Fisher and Guglielmo.  It is also a documentary which I am having a hard time finding but would love to see.  Here I leave you to enjoy the rest of your Wednesday.

"How We Lived Then"

First - and unrelated to the rest of this post - please notice that I changed my url to http://attachresumehere.blogspot.com/  Just because I hadn't really expected anybody to read this and now that people do seem to be checking it I don't want potential employers to be able to google my name and come up to this.  My depression and self-pity is probably not inspiring anybody to hire me!


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Today my book review is a book called "How We Lived Then" by Norman Longmate.  This is not just topical for Remembrance Day, I have actually been making my way through this book for the last three weeks.  It is really long and I have been busy, but I am working my way through it.  It is full of fascinating memories of day to day life in mostly England during World War II.  It is beautifully told and heartbreakingly sad.  A really good book should tell more than a story, it should also change the way you see the world.  For me, this book is a reminder, especially near Remembrance Day of all the men and women who gave up so much during the war years.  Not just the one who joined up, but the ones who stayed to fight on the home front.  The ones who put the pieces back together of their lives and their bombed out houses, who took care of the children, and who waited for the end of the war, for their men to come home, for letters or news about loved ones. 

I know I whine and complain (pretty much hourly) about the recession, the lack of jobs and meaningful employment...  but, after I graduated highschool until now I have done pretty much whatever I wanted.  I have used this time to travel and see the world, to hang out with friends, work various jobs.  It has been time for me to be irresponsible and free in the world.  For the men and women who spent six years of their lives in the war they missed that time of being young.  My Grandpa was in the RCAF, he signed up as soon as he could and stayed overseas until the war was finished.  These years I have spent partying and playing he spent in a war that is incomprehensible to me. 

I would like to say thank you to all of the men and women who fought and gave up so much for us and still do.  Wear your poppy or change your facebook picture to a poppy.  Hug your grandparents if you still have them, listen to their stories (even the long boring ones you have heard a thousand times), get to know the people they once were and what they did for us.  Even if you don't agree with the war, I think we can all agree that a huge sacrifice was made and that above all, deserves to be remembered. 

Pig kissing, and other travel related adventures

Thursday morning book review!!  Yay!!

I must admit I've felt a little guilty about almost, but not quite, cyber punching a little old lady in the head yesterday.  I mean she didn't really do anything wrong, in fact she might not have even been being sarcastic.  Husband and I talked it over and he said she might have actually been making conversation in an nice, albeit a little weird way.....  Moving on, I do not take back that post because I believed it to be true at the time of the writing.  I am just letting you know today's post will be a little nicer.

The book I am reviewing is called "kiss the sunset pig" by Laurie Gough.  The title is from an obscure line in a song, and also maybe a folk tale, and also partly from some unpublished memoirs.  The story is a woman driving from Guelph to California.  Along the way she remembers a lot of her other crazy travel adventures, as well as having some new ones.

I love to travel and I love to read about other people travelling.  Her travel style is a little more intense than mine.  I don't think I am a high maintenance traveller, but her favourite memory is the week she spent living in a cave on the California coast without speaking to another person, eating granola and hoping she didn't get sick from drinking spring water she had seen cows bathing in.  A little too rustic for me, but I appreciate the sentiment.  I think you find a better, truer part of yourself when you travel.  I like to see what other people have found about themselves through adventuring.

After a particularly challenging trip to Sumatra she says, "trips don't mean you have to have a good time.  All you need to have is a 'time' for its own sake where you see this baffling universe in a different way than you've ever seen it before.  Bruno said I should go to Sumatra to see it and to see myself in it.  I'd done that, and even though I didn't always like what I saw in either, it would change me".

I think every trip changes you.  My sister and I went to an all inclusive resort in Cuba last year.  For $530 including tax we got our flight, food and alcohol, and activities for a week.  We had a blast, eating mostly raw vegetables (because one day we saw two guys carrying a dead goat across the resort, and that night it was on the menu), napping through the extreme heat every afternoon, and I took an accidental intimate shower with a tree frog (that story is for another day). 

Marea del Portillo

One day we decided to go horse back riding.  Our guide rode us off the resort and along dusty not quite paved roads and right into the heart of the village of Marea del Portillo.  This was not the romantic horseback ride along the beach you see in brochures.  We stopped at a roadside bar while the guide joked with the locals in Spanish.  We tried our best to interpret, refused multiple offers of beer, and had a small glimpse into someone else's life.  We saw how they lived in the village, not from the view of a large tour bus, and not as white saviours coming in with supplies to give them.  Just as two girls, bouncing in on horseback, alone in this foreign world.

When I look back on that vacation I think about the things I learnt from a week spent with my sister, about the laughter and the relaxation.  Would I recommend this resort based on its food, or comfort of the rooms, or safety?  Probably not.  Do I regret going?  Absolutely not. 

The end of the horseback riding story is that as we approached the beach the guide said to my sister, "When we reach the beach your horse gallops."  We had little time to think this over before we hit the beach and her horse took off at full speed leaving me trotting behind wondering how I was going to explain her unfortunate death to my parents......  She made it, but was told by her doctor when she got home, for the sake of her tailbone, to quit horseback riding!

I saw myself in a remote village in Cuba.  I wasn't as brave as I had hoped, or as fluent in Spanish.  But it definitely changed me.  Brought me a little bit of peace with who I am and what I am capable of.  Be brave and strong my readers!  Travel the world and come back and tell me about it. 

Today I am concentrating on seeing myself in my life here in Toronto.  I will admit, I don't always like who I am in my every day life, but really seeing that will help me to change into what I would like to be.  Hopefully.

Hey - give me one post of self reflection, I promise tomorrow I will be back to punching little old ladies! 



Maybe these little guys are my sunset pigs?



Say Cheese!

Thursday?  Check.

Morning? Check.

Book review?  Nope, sorry friends.  But, I have an explanation.  I ambitiously went to the library last week and took out four books.  These all turned into disasters.  The first was a book on fibromyalgia.  *note - I had written some funny stuff about fibromyalgia, but realized it isn't very popular to make fun of 'invisible illnesses' right now, and I would never want to demean or hurt anyone suffering just to make myself laugh, and considering I am hoping for a job in the social services, I feel it is in my best interest to not look like the world's biggest jerk!  HA I can make mature decisions. 

Next book - about Toronto.  After a summer of travelling I thought it would be fun to read a travel book about my own city.  Nope.  Not fun.  Apparently I know nothing about this city and the area I have always referred to as "the beaches" is actually "the beach".  I thought this piece of information was rediculous enough to give up the book, BUT earlier this week I went to a movie at the theatre in the beaches and noticed it did in fact say "Beach".....  strange but true.....

Third, a book about finding your dream job.  I had hoped to use this practical advice to help me get a job, but also to pass on some useful knowledge.  I realized a few pages in I have already taken this book out of the library and it didn't help last time, plus now my library records show exactly how lame I am.

The fourth book was a history of the condom.  Yes, I randomly wander the library grabbing anything that catches my eye.  I would be such a sucker for books with shiny covers!  It was fine, but more historical and less interesting than I thought it would be.

So, instead of a book review, I have decided to share with you some life advice I was given yesterday.  My love for free things and excessive spare time has led to me attending talk shows in Toronto.  In case you thought Steven and Chris was a one time only thing, I was there yesterday and last week I went to Marilyn Dennis.  Proof?  Sure no problem.

Steven and Chris yesterday had a segment on how to be happier.  I thought this was well timed for my life and was looking forward to some practical tips I could try out.  I only heard the first one, and it was so profound and life altering I couldn't possibly concentrate on the rest of them and tuned out completely.  In fact I have no recollection of the rest of the segment.  Except the psychologist was wearing adorable gray shoes. 

I could make you wait until October 18th when the show airs, and you can see me in the front row again.  Listen people - I was also in the front row of Marilyn, this is not a coincidence anymore.  Jen and I are gorgeous and you just have to deal with that.  I cannot help it if you get chosen for the 3rd or 5th or even back row.  But I do have a fabulous tip to make you happier.

Enough with the suspense.....  here it is......  "Smile at random strangers".

  Yes.  That was it.  It will apparently change your life.  Through this simple act you can spread joy to the entire world.  I don't mean to be rude, but I'm not sure this will work...  especially not in Toronto.  People here are trying so hard to be 'big city' and 'world class' they forget those terms do not also always mean 'extreme asshole'.  Toronto barely survives at being civil.  We let homeless people die on the street, daycares in Regent Park are shutting down because the rich people who have moved into those big new condo buildings don't want their rich white children going to school with poor kids, the TTC has body bags under the tracks for the extreme number of people who can't take it anymore and jump, o and at the Toronto Zoo a mother polar bear just ate her baby cubs to avoid having them grow up as Torontonians.  Could this city use an extra smile or two?  Absolutely!  Am I going to be the one to start?  Hell no!

That's not entirely true.  I did try yesterday.  I showed Jen my friendly, "hello stranger, I am here to brighten your day" smile.  Jen said, "uhmm  that is really more of a grimace....  you might actually scare people like that..."

BUT I did have a small success!  While Jen and I were pushing people out of our way, and sighing loudly at the slow old lady who needed directions from the ticket seller at the subway, Jen got on the escalator first and I went to get on next when a man stepped out in front of me.  When he saw me barrelling through he moved out of the way.  Normally, I would have rolled my eyes and given him a little elbow on my way past for ever trying to get in my way in the first place.  But no!  I had been inspired.  I looked at him, smiled and said, "Thank you."  I was so proud of myself.  I can only assume my kindness brought a smile to his face and his whole day was made better.  You are welcome stranger for my smile.

Jen, obviously following my excellent example, gave it a try this morning on her way to Cityline.  By the way, what is the matter with you Cityline?  Why couldn't we have two tickets?  Sheesh kabobers.....  But I digress....  This morning I received this text from Jen, "Can you please blog about smiling at strangers.  I tried it.  Awkward!  We exchanged a weird 'funeral' smile.  Like, 'hi, I'm so sorry to see you.'.

In conclusion (I always love how even in university I was taught to use that phrase to start a concluding paragraph, in future posts I will also be starting them with, 'in the beginning....' although that sounds a little biblical....), please try smiling at a stranger today.  Let me know how it goes.  I will keep you updated on my attempts at bringing happiness to this city.

I promise to review a book for next week.  And to blog about things that actually pertain more to unemployment than my random babbling.  Okay I don't promise that second one....


UPDATE  I have been rather unsuccessful, yesterday on a walk I told a lady my sweet little puppy was dangerous and would jump on her just to avoid the awkward small talk of her wanting to pet my dog.....  today is another day.....  I will try again......

Movie or Book?

I almost always choose book.  I would say 95% of the time when there is a film adaptation I pick the book over it, even if I read the book after I've seen the movie.  This unofficial poll of my life is a little biased because I do not see that many movies, and I won't see movies of books I really really love in case they ruin them a little bit.  For example - I live in fear of the time when the "Atlas Shrugged" movie comes out.  It is one of the most influential books in my life and I hate to think of people being exposed to it only through a hollywood blockbuster movie, plus it defeats the purpose of the entire book to have it made into a stupid movie (especially because I once heard Angelina Jolie was supposed to play Dagny, and although I love Angelina in her own way, there is no way she could possibly capture Dagny, further proof that the people making the movie just don't get the point of the book).

But this book review is not about Atlas Shrugged, it is about "The Help: a novel" by Kathryn Stockett, which I have just finised reading but have not yet seen the movie.  The book was good, a cute idea for a story, a little intense at times, of course I cried, but I cry in practically every book I read so that is not a measure of success.  It wasn't eye opening so much as it made me think about how crazy a place the world really is, and was in the not very distant future.  I still want to see the movie, or if you've seen it let me know how it is, or if you've seen and read then let me know how they compare. 

Also - 11:41 - this here is a Thursday Morning Book Review.  You're welcome.

Elsa the Lioness and other strange things about my life....

I guess I will have to rename this "Thursday Afternoon Book Review" but something about a morning near the end of the week to snuggle up and read my reviews of bizarre and obscure books about nothing seems like a nice thought.  I will try harder for you next week.  For now, just relax, make yourself a cup of tea and enjoy my review.

My book this week is "Born Free: A Lioness of Two Worlds" by Joy Adamson.  Basically, when I go to the library I make sure I have lots of spare time and then I just wander the shelves, never in the same area, picking and choosing as I go.  Sometimes stopping to read entire books, sometimes knowing from the title that I have to read one.  This one I saw and walked past because it reminded me of Jonathon Livingstone Seagull, which was a little too much for me.  But the picture on the front cover pulled me in and I read a little bit and decided to give it a chance.

The book is about Elsa, who is adopted as a baby cub by the author Joy and her husband George, who live in Africa and do some sort of game control/travelling/animal sight seeing.  It all sounds very glamourous, especially since Africa is at the top of my "To Visit" list.  So they raise baby Elsa from a tiny cub into a lioness who is over 300 pounds.  If you love true stories about animals without a sad ending and breathtaking pictures (my fav, 300 pound Elsa lounging in a camp bed that she shared with Joy in their tent) then this book is for you.  This book is beautiful and was apparently the beginning of a movement for better treatment for animals.  In the end she wants to go free, and being responsible foster parents Joy and George let her in a way that keeps all of them together as a family. 

Borrow it from the library, if only to see the pictures, and then you can fantasize about moving to Africa and having your own baby lion cub to raise and love.  Do you have a favourite animal book that won't make me cry? 

Next week, I will try to be up and motivated early enough to get this done in the morning.

Cleaving by Julie Powell

This last week has been a strange mix of "finding yourself" books for me.  I started with Eat, Pray, Love.  I've seen the movie and didn't love it, I found the book far more engaging and realistic.  Who can disagree with finding inner peace through homemade pasta and wine, meditation and yoga, and lots of sex and travelling.  Not me!  Next I read The Secret Life of Bees.  I loved it, I laughed and cried and cried some more. 

I use those two books to show that I appreciate a good story of personal searching for meaning.  I appreciate the bizarre and unlikely lengths that people go to put their lives back together.  This brings us to Cleaving.  Written by the author of Julie and Julia - which I read, and liked the story and idea of cooking difficult recipes to mirror your life.  Cleaving is a whole other story.

Apparently, after the success of Julie and Julia, Julie's marriage falls apart.  She starts sleeping with another man, her husband gets a girlfriend and she decides to learn how to butcher meat.  As a sometimes almost, I still eat chicken and fish, kinda vegetarian I hadn't expected to be bothered by this but the explanations are graphic (when she compares a cow body to a human body to explain what she is hacking up), and also boring (pages upon pages).  I hate to do this, but I admit, I skimmed over a lot of this stuff.

She also, I think unreasonably, hates women who come into the store and order boneless skinless chicken breast - which happens to  be one of the staples in my diet.  Maybe this is when I started disliking the book.  Or maybe it was when she moved out without breaking up with her husband and travelled to Buenos Aires, then Kiev, Tanzania and Japan all without reason.

*Spoiler alert* there is no happy Disney ending, she does not find any meaning in her travels, or her random men, there is no conclusion and in the thank you section she mentions that most of her family and friends declined reading the book.  I advise you do the same and skip this one.  I wish I had.