I basically shushed a cell phone last night.
I was sitting and enjoying a fascinating production of a play (No Exit by Jean-Paul Sartre) when a young woman sitting next me decided to pull out her phone. It was about 2/3 of the way through the show, and extremely climactic, and she decided that this was the exact moment that she needed to text someone. She proceeded to text for a few minutes, and then, to my complete horror, started to show her friend her texts, and whisper about the messages that she was receiving, and giggle together.
I don't generally have the patience to deal with people talking during a Theatre production. I find it unbelievably distracting, and I know how much it can affect the actors on stage, but I usually don't aggressively say anything. Instead I try an extremely passive aggressive reaction and continue to glance at the culprits intermittently, hoping that they will notice I am distracted by them and shut up. Sometimes this works, but in this case, it did not. And for the first time, I decided that I needed to take more serious action.
After my 6th or 7th glancing attempt, the young woman beside me went back to texting, and I couldn't help myself. I reached over and silently gestured at her phone to stop, while I disappointedly shook my head, and mouthed "no." I then mouthed "thank you" and very quickly turned back to the show.
I will never forget the look on the young woman's face: it was complete shock, and almost confusion, mixed with a little bit of disdain, but it was as if she wasn't sure if she was allowed to be mad at me for what I had done. Her next reaction was quite interesting. She paused, then continued to finish her text (a small act of rebellion) and then proceeded to put her phone away for the remainder of the production! Hurray!! Success!!
Now this brings me to two very important issues: Phone etiquette and Theatre etiquette.
Perhaps I should give my young friend the benefit of the doubt, and assume that she has never been to the Theatre before. I have heard actors tell so many horror stories about ridiculous reactions in the audience, I have a few myself, and I know it is not only young people who are the culprits. I have to say that I am now on the side of those ridiculous announcements the larger theatres play before a show. When the regional Theatres play the tapes that say "don't unwrap candies, please be quiet and turn off your cellphone" they are preventing (hopefully) these kind of distractions by informing the novices that these practices are prohibited. The reality is: we need to continue to educate people on how to view Theatre, as they cannot learn what is appropriate unless someone tells them. I had the benefit of growing up with Theatre, and learning at a young age how to act, but some people are not so fortunate. I would like to think common sense would come into play, but some people may not realize the affects they are having on others.
As for cellphone etiquette, based on the temptation for people to text and check messages constantly, I think there should be a cell-phone etiquette class built into the school system, or at least it should become part of a parental teaching regime, because it has become ridiculous! I am as guilty as many to the temptation of constant phone-checking, however, I would like to think that I know when it is appropriate and when it is not.
I feel a rant coming on, so excuse me while I get this off of my chest.
It is NOT appropriate to check your phone in the following places: The Theatre, during a film (it's dark, and your phone glows- just don't), during a date (unless you are waiting for an emergency response, in which case just TELL the other person why) during any conversation with another human being really (unless again, you are waiting for something important, or you are done the conversation and you excuse yourself- just as you would at a cocktail party if you move to converse with someone else, it's the same concept!), during sex (this is NEVER okay), while driving (I HATE cars, and I HATE distracted drivers more than anything in the world. Just don't do it), while crossing the street (be safe people, I've seen this so many times), and last but not least, while you are watching a baby. (This may sound weird and extreme, but studies are starting to show that babies are having a more difficult time distinguishing facial expressions of emotion now that there is the "numb" face that their caregivers get when distracted by a cell phone or computer. I don't want a whole generation of people who cannot distinguish emotions and body language, how about you?)
Alright, I am done my rant. I hope that my young friend recognizes that her behaviour was not appropriate and learns from it, and I hope that we can all use a little common sense with the technology that has taken over our lives. As long as we do that, I think we can continue to hold on to social etiquette and interaction, along with technology. Technology is awesome and helpful, I don't want to put it down. Let's just work it into our social rulebook a little bit more.
Love and kindness all.
Saturday, March 30, 2013
Tuesday, March 19, 2013
Perfection: A game and a curse
I think perfectionism is a difficult concept to grasp, for many reasons. The main one being that in many areas of our lives, it is encouraged and praised (such as work, school, etc.) however it makes life much more difficult in many other areas.
Last week I had a pimple. It sounds like such a ridiculous sentence when it is written out like that, but at the time, it was devastating. I work, like many people, in very front-of-house environments, dealing directly with the public, and also as an actor, I tend to have auditions. In all of these cases, I am seen by a lot of people, and my face is front and center, and last week, in the center of that face was a giant zit.
Now, there are so many stories about teenagers who don't want to leave their houses when they have a pimple, and we all feel for them. It becomes a little bit more ridiculous as an adult to admit these things, but dammit, that is exactly how I felt! I know there are so many people in the world who have to deal with deformities and all kinds of horrible things, but this was not my logic brain reacting here, and I was freaking out. I was miserable. I realize now, looking back, that I even stayed inside the house more than I normally do, making excuses to not go out, mostly because I didn't want people to see my imperfections.
So now is the story of how out of control I became. I am working two jobs at the moment, and last week I had to commute between both of them most days. On one particular day when my pimple was very prominent, I just couldn't do it anymore, so during the hour that I had between my shifts I concocted a plan. I realized that based on where my pimple was located on my face, I could probably cover it up with a decently large-framed pair of glasses. Brilliant. The only problem here being, I don't actually wear glasses. So, I decided to head to a mall near-by and search out a pair. I began in a shoppers drug mart, looking through the sun glasses to see if there was a pair with clear lenses (as I remembered there being at one point through the fashion cycle of sunglasses. Unfortunately this trend seemed to be over. I did spot, however, the rack of reading glasses, and began perusing. As I tried on the lowest prescriptions, for a brief second I pondered if I could deal with the blurriness for a whole shift (which in retrospect is ridiculous) and I, thankfully, decided that I could not, and moved on to the next store. I looked through a dollar store, 2 clothing stores, a Winners, and another drug store, before I came to an accessory store with 2 pairs of clear sunglasses. I tried them on, very hopeful, and they were both huge, very oddly coloured, and completely uneblievable. Despite this fact, I bought one. I was feeling so desperate, I thought maybe it would work anyway...and it did cover up my pimple.
Before I left the mall, my last stop (as I was running out of time, and would now not have time to eat before going to job number two) was the glasses store in the mall. I outright lied to the sales lady and told her that I was doing a play and needed a pair of fake glasses for the performance. To which she asked, "Well why don't you just pop out the lenses of a pair of sunglasses?" Which would have been a brilliant solution if I was indeed needing them for a play. Instead I told her they needed to have lenses because the director was insistent, and she proceeded to tell me that the cheapest frames would still be $75. The sad part is I considered it for about 30 seconds before I thanked her and left the mall to catch the bus. On the bus ride, I put on the sunglasses and looked in the mirror.
I looked ridiculous. There was no way anyone would believe they were real glasses. I took them off and admired the pimple on my face. Yes it was noticeable, and yes a lot of people would see it. Was that really such a big deal? Really? I took a deep breath and put the glasses away in my purse, and then added just a little more blush to my cheeks. (To take focus away, of course.) And off I went to work.
While working my shift, I noticed an amazing trend. At least three women who I interacted with had acne on their faces. I realized that I did not like them any less as people, I did not find them less pretty, and I did not judge them. In fact, I was so happy to see that I was not alone in my imperfection.
The next day I did something I have never done before: I did not cover up my pimple before I went to work. I left it free for the world to see, and you know what? I maybe thought about it twice before going to work, and not once during. It didn't matter anymore. So that's what it all comes down to. Why was it such a big deal to me? Because that is not the way I wanted people to see me. I want to look "my best."The reality is, I can't control how people see me in any capacity. It was on my face, and there was no way I could magically make it disappear, so I might as well accept it.
This is true for so much of life. There are so many things I fight so hard against, wanting to control, but in reality, I have no control over them, and I am making my life more stressful by fighting. I mean, I went without lunch, and was almost willing to pay 75$ that I don't have, and to be almost blind for an entire shift just to cover up a pimple! If I can just, in fact, accept that some things will be the way they will be, and there is nothing I can do about it, I predict a much less stressful life.
Love and kindness all.
Last week I had a pimple. It sounds like such a ridiculous sentence when it is written out like that, but at the time, it was devastating. I work, like many people, in very front-of-house environments, dealing directly with the public, and also as an actor, I tend to have auditions. In all of these cases, I am seen by a lot of people, and my face is front and center, and last week, in the center of that face was a giant zit.
Now, there are so many stories about teenagers who don't want to leave their houses when they have a pimple, and we all feel for them. It becomes a little bit more ridiculous as an adult to admit these things, but dammit, that is exactly how I felt! I know there are so many people in the world who have to deal with deformities and all kinds of horrible things, but this was not my logic brain reacting here, and I was freaking out. I was miserable. I realize now, looking back, that I even stayed inside the house more than I normally do, making excuses to not go out, mostly because I didn't want people to see my imperfections.
So now is the story of how out of control I became. I am working two jobs at the moment, and last week I had to commute between both of them most days. On one particular day when my pimple was very prominent, I just couldn't do it anymore, so during the hour that I had between my shifts I concocted a plan. I realized that based on where my pimple was located on my face, I could probably cover it up with a decently large-framed pair of glasses. Brilliant. The only problem here being, I don't actually wear glasses. So, I decided to head to a mall near-by and search out a pair. I began in a shoppers drug mart, looking through the sun glasses to see if there was a pair with clear lenses (as I remembered there being at one point through the fashion cycle of sunglasses. Unfortunately this trend seemed to be over. I did spot, however, the rack of reading glasses, and began perusing. As I tried on the lowest prescriptions, for a brief second I pondered if I could deal with the blurriness for a whole shift (which in retrospect is ridiculous) and I, thankfully, decided that I could not, and moved on to the next store. I looked through a dollar store, 2 clothing stores, a Winners, and another drug store, before I came to an accessory store with 2 pairs of clear sunglasses. I tried them on, very hopeful, and they were both huge, very oddly coloured, and completely uneblievable. Despite this fact, I bought one. I was feeling so desperate, I thought maybe it would work anyway...and it did cover up my pimple.
Before I left the mall, my last stop (as I was running out of time, and would now not have time to eat before going to job number two) was the glasses store in the mall. I outright lied to the sales lady and told her that I was doing a play and needed a pair of fake glasses for the performance. To which she asked, "Well why don't you just pop out the lenses of a pair of sunglasses?" Which would have been a brilliant solution if I was indeed needing them for a play. Instead I told her they needed to have lenses because the director was insistent, and she proceeded to tell me that the cheapest frames would still be $75. The sad part is I considered it for about 30 seconds before I thanked her and left the mall to catch the bus. On the bus ride, I put on the sunglasses and looked in the mirror.
I looked ridiculous. There was no way anyone would believe they were real glasses. I took them off and admired the pimple on my face. Yes it was noticeable, and yes a lot of people would see it. Was that really such a big deal? Really? I took a deep breath and put the glasses away in my purse, and then added just a little more blush to my cheeks. (To take focus away, of course.) And off I went to work.
While working my shift, I noticed an amazing trend. At least three women who I interacted with had acne on their faces. I realized that I did not like them any less as people, I did not find them less pretty, and I did not judge them. In fact, I was so happy to see that I was not alone in my imperfection.
The next day I did something I have never done before: I did not cover up my pimple before I went to work. I left it free for the world to see, and you know what? I maybe thought about it twice before going to work, and not once during. It didn't matter anymore. So that's what it all comes down to. Why was it such a big deal to me? Because that is not the way I wanted people to see me. I want to look "my best."The reality is, I can't control how people see me in any capacity. It was on my face, and there was no way I could magically make it disappear, so I might as well accept it.
This is true for so much of life. There are so many things I fight so hard against, wanting to control, but in reality, I have no control over them, and I am making my life more stressful by fighting. I mean, I went without lunch, and was almost willing to pay 75$ that I don't have, and to be almost blind for an entire shift just to cover up a pimple! If I can just, in fact, accept that some things will be the way they will be, and there is nothing I can do about it, I predict a much less stressful life.
Love and kindness all.
Thursday, February 21, 2013
The more you don't know
I had to take a grade five level math test today, and I'm pretty sure I failed it.
It was one of the most in-depth job interviews I have ever had, and at the end of a very, very long-winded interview, there was a math test and a data entry exam. Yikes! Neither of these two things are my strong suit, however, at least for data entry I have acquired a way of typing that works reasonably fast for me, albeit ridiculous. I won't say what the job interview is for in this open web world, but I will say that it was a part-time job that really shouldn't need this much of a screening test.
Anyway, the math test was full of questions that I probably haven't seen since about grade five. There were a lot of questions on finding percentages and dividing ticket sales, and bla bla bla, however the one that stumped me for the longest was this:
2 adult tickets and a child's ticket cost 49$ total, 2 child tickets and one adult cost 44$ total. What is the cost for the individual child and adult tickets?
This question must have taken me 12 minutes out of the 20 minute exam. Why? Because I was trying desperately to remember the formula/ cross-division/ thingy thing that I would have used to figure this out in grade five, and my mind was a blank. I'm sure there is a way to substitute with a's and b's, and do an algebraic equation of some kind, but I could not for the life of me remember. I will note that I eventually figured out the answer, and I will say what it is at the bottom in case anyone is dying to figure it out on their own, oh I know you are! My system of figuring it out, however, consisted of trial and error, substituting different numbers in and then adjusting up or down depending on my results. (Not exactly the most efficient system, but whatever works.)
Anyway, what this whole math test got me thinking was that I actually used to know how to answer this question, but I will bet you that I memorized and regurgitated the formula for my math tests, and then away it went forever. I have been noticing as of late just how many things this is true for in my life! Definitely the majority of my University studies were conducted this way. It makes me a little bit sad. It is a system of success that I was able to use in order to achieve good grades and "succeed" through most of my life, however, I have nothing to show for it now! I'm not saying I want my brain to be absolutely packed with useless information, and I don't disagree that these things fall into the "use it or lose it" category of things that I have not used. That said, I am mourning the chances that I had to "learn" interesting things in the past, that I instead "replicated and regurgitated."
Another side of this coin is a phenomenon I have noticed in myself: Feeling like there are things that I should know that I don't, and instead of owning up to it, pretending that I know them. A very regular example of this is movies. There have been times (specifically when I am in a group of film-buff people, or directors, or another group that makes me very nervous) when someone starts to talk about a famous movie that I have not seen, and instead of saying I haven't seen it and being the odd one out, I agree and pretend I know exactly what they're talking about, laugh about the "really funny part at the end" and try really hard to remember the actor's name that played the guy with the weird haircut, that I actually have no idea who in hell he could possibly be. I am sure I'm not the only one who has done this. Right??
So why have I done that? Nerves, feelings of insecurity, an unsafe group of people, many reasons! However, I am actually preventing myself from learning through this intelligent group of people that I'm with. If they're film buffs, instead, I could find out their insight on a film, which ones to see, which to avoid, find out interesting background information, and about that particular director, actually learn. I think it's time that I admit that I know nothing. The more I learn, the more I realize that I actually do not know, and therefore, instead of trying so hard to prove that I know something, I am going to do the opposite. Admit that I know nothing. (That way when I do actually know something, it will be surprising and fun!)
I now have a new goal: I want to learn. Really learn. How do I do that? I ask a shit load of question, even if it means looking stupid. I came up with a list of things that I (very judging-ly) feel that I should know by now, given I am what people might refer to as an "adult." My goal is to learn how to do them:
-make an omelet that doesn't end up gooy in the middle or way over-cooked. (actually, learn how to cook a lot of things, like chicken, fish, and turkey without over-cooking the shit out of it! Maybe I should change this one to cooking classes in general. I want to cook things well!)
- fold a fitted sheet. It's time.
- play the drums (I've been saying I wanted to learn for years, so what am I waiting for?)
- finish actually reading the 1/6 of Shakespeare plays I haven't read. I avoid them, but really, I'm a Classical actor, that's just wrong.
- lift weights properly. 'nuff said
- wash the windows. How do you get inside? how?
- sew.
- keep my receipts mainly organized so that it doesn't take me 5 hours to sort them come spring
- use tools. I mean, I guess it depends on what you're using them for, but all those little handy projects they might be good for around the house. Like fixing things... and stuff... yup. Specific.
That's the list for now, but really, I want to be open for whatever learning experiences might come my way. Here we go!!!
Oh. And the answer is adult: 18$, child: 13$, just in case you wanted to know!
Love and kindness all.
It was one of the most in-depth job interviews I have ever had, and at the end of a very, very long-winded interview, there was a math test and a data entry exam. Yikes! Neither of these two things are my strong suit, however, at least for data entry I have acquired a way of typing that works reasonably fast for me, albeit ridiculous. I won't say what the job interview is for in this open web world, but I will say that it was a part-time job that really shouldn't need this much of a screening test.
Anyway, the math test was full of questions that I probably haven't seen since about grade five. There were a lot of questions on finding percentages and dividing ticket sales, and bla bla bla, however the one that stumped me for the longest was this:
2 adult tickets and a child's ticket cost 49$ total, 2 child tickets and one adult cost 44$ total. What is the cost for the individual child and adult tickets?
This question must have taken me 12 minutes out of the 20 minute exam. Why? Because I was trying desperately to remember the formula/ cross-division/ thingy thing that I would have used to figure this out in grade five, and my mind was a blank. I'm sure there is a way to substitute with a's and b's, and do an algebraic equation of some kind, but I could not for the life of me remember. I will note that I eventually figured out the answer, and I will say what it is at the bottom in case anyone is dying to figure it out on their own, oh I know you are! My system of figuring it out, however, consisted of trial and error, substituting different numbers in and then adjusting up or down depending on my results. (Not exactly the most efficient system, but whatever works.)
Anyway, what this whole math test got me thinking was that I actually used to know how to answer this question, but I will bet you that I memorized and regurgitated the formula for my math tests, and then away it went forever. I have been noticing as of late just how many things this is true for in my life! Definitely the majority of my University studies were conducted this way. It makes me a little bit sad. It is a system of success that I was able to use in order to achieve good grades and "succeed" through most of my life, however, I have nothing to show for it now! I'm not saying I want my brain to be absolutely packed with useless information, and I don't disagree that these things fall into the "use it or lose it" category of things that I have not used. That said, I am mourning the chances that I had to "learn" interesting things in the past, that I instead "replicated and regurgitated."
Another side of this coin is a phenomenon I have noticed in myself: Feeling like there are things that I should know that I don't, and instead of owning up to it, pretending that I know them. A very regular example of this is movies. There have been times (specifically when I am in a group of film-buff people, or directors, or another group that makes me very nervous) when someone starts to talk about a famous movie that I have not seen, and instead of saying I haven't seen it and being the odd one out, I agree and pretend I know exactly what they're talking about, laugh about the "really funny part at the end" and try really hard to remember the actor's name that played the guy with the weird haircut, that I actually have no idea who in hell he could possibly be. I am sure I'm not the only one who has done this. Right??
So why have I done that? Nerves, feelings of insecurity, an unsafe group of people, many reasons! However, I am actually preventing myself from learning through this intelligent group of people that I'm with. If they're film buffs, instead, I could find out their insight on a film, which ones to see, which to avoid, find out interesting background information, and about that particular director, actually learn. I think it's time that I admit that I know nothing. The more I learn, the more I realize that I actually do not know, and therefore, instead of trying so hard to prove that I know something, I am going to do the opposite. Admit that I know nothing. (That way when I do actually know something, it will be surprising and fun!)
I now have a new goal: I want to learn. Really learn. How do I do that? I ask a shit load of question, even if it means looking stupid. I came up with a list of things that I (very judging-ly) feel that I should know by now, given I am what people might refer to as an "adult." My goal is to learn how to do them:
-make an omelet that doesn't end up gooy in the middle or way over-cooked. (actually, learn how to cook a lot of things, like chicken, fish, and turkey without over-cooking the shit out of it! Maybe I should change this one to cooking classes in general. I want to cook things well!)
- fold a fitted sheet. It's time.
- play the drums (I've been saying I wanted to learn for years, so what am I waiting for?)
- finish actually reading the 1/6 of Shakespeare plays I haven't read. I avoid them, but really, I'm a Classical actor, that's just wrong.
- lift weights properly. 'nuff said
- wash the windows. How do you get inside? how?
- sew.
- keep my receipts mainly organized so that it doesn't take me 5 hours to sort them come spring
- use tools. I mean, I guess it depends on what you're using them for, but all those little handy projects they might be good for around the house. Like fixing things... and stuff... yup. Specific.
That's the list for now, but really, I want to be open for whatever learning experiences might come my way. Here we go!!!
Oh. And the answer is adult: 18$, child: 13$, just in case you wanted to know!
Love and kindness all.
Wednesday, February 6, 2013
Potty humour at its' best
Alright, I realize this is a ridiculous topic, not the most literary or philosophical discussion I have posed, but I've been babysitting all week and this is where my head is at:
Today I did something I have never done before: I farted REALLY loud in front of a stranger in public. I didn't exactly do it on purpose, I just wasn't thinking about it. I had been babysitting a 14 month old all day, and just one of the great thing about babies is that you can just burp and fart all you want around them, because no one cares!
Anyway, I was wearing my ipod head phones and listening to some classic Nora Jones hits, and I just let 'er rip without noticing, that is until the woman standing next to me almost jumped out of her skin, she was so shocked. It was in that moment that I realized what had just happened. I stared straight ahead, as did she, and we both stood as stiff as corpses until our subway car came, which seemed like an eternity. It's funny how we both felt the absolute necessity to pretend like nothing had happened, knowing perfectly well that the other knew perfectly well what had just occurred. Why is that? I mean, I will always find farts hilarious, and if I had looked at the woman's face, I probably would have started laughing hysterically, but no, we were not allowed to laugh in this circumstance, we had to stare straight ahead.
I can recall several hilarious farting circumstances in the last few years of my life. Being an actor, there is a lot of movement and voice work that challenges the ability to keep in gas, and sometimes it slips out. One of the most hilarious moments I have ever witnessed was with an instructor in a workshop I was taking. He was doing a leg stretch, and right in the middle of it, a little teeny fart popped out, and shocked him, so he said "ooops!" and continued on with the class. I, however, could not continue on. No matter what I did, I could not stop replaying it in my head, and one of my classmates was uncontrollably giggling across the room, so whenever I caught her eye I lost it, and I continued to giggle until I had to excuse myself from the room. I also had a one on one session with a voice teacher I was taking some classes with, and in the middle of doing a very low-breath squat, a big fart came right out. Again, I pretended that it did not happen, but based on her face, I could tell that of course she noticed! She was probably trying desperately not to laugh, for all I know.
So my question is, why are farts so darn funny? Is it the element of surprise? You never know when they might suddenly appear? Is it the noise that they make? Is that noise funny just in itself, and the fact that we make that noise from our bodies makes it even funnier?
Whatever the case, today I didn't find my fart funny. Today, I was terrified that this stranger was going to think I was some weird, gross person who farts really loud in public. Now, I did fart really loud in public, but why would she think I was weird and gross? In fact, in my experience, as I have mentioned, I find other people's farts to be hilarious, so in retrospect, maybe she was really just trying not to laugh, but if she did laugh, it could have been an amazing moment.
I declare, let us all embrace the humour of our farts! If they slip out, let us embrace their hilarity, and allow others to do the same!!
Love and kindness all.
Today I did something I have never done before: I farted REALLY loud in front of a stranger in public. I didn't exactly do it on purpose, I just wasn't thinking about it. I had been babysitting a 14 month old all day, and just one of the great thing about babies is that you can just burp and fart all you want around them, because no one cares!
Anyway, I was wearing my ipod head phones and listening to some classic Nora Jones hits, and I just let 'er rip without noticing, that is until the woman standing next to me almost jumped out of her skin, she was so shocked. It was in that moment that I realized what had just happened. I stared straight ahead, as did she, and we both stood as stiff as corpses until our subway car came, which seemed like an eternity. It's funny how we both felt the absolute necessity to pretend like nothing had happened, knowing perfectly well that the other knew perfectly well what had just occurred. Why is that? I mean, I will always find farts hilarious, and if I had looked at the woman's face, I probably would have started laughing hysterically, but no, we were not allowed to laugh in this circumstance, we had to stare straight ahead.
I can recall several hilarious farting circumstances in the last few years of my life. Being an actor, there is a lot of movement and voice work that challenges the ability to keep in gas, and sometimes it slips out. One of the most hilarious moments I have ever witnessed was with an instructor in a workshop I was taking. He was doing a leg stretch, and right in the middle of it, a little teeny fart popped out, and shocked him, so he said "ooops!" and continued on with the class. I, however, could not continue on. No matter what I did, I could not stop replaying it in my head, and one of my classmates was uncontrollably giggling across the room, so whenever I caught her eye I lost it, and I continued to giggle until I had to excuse myself from the room. I also had a one on one session with a voice teacher I was taking some classes with, and in the middle of doing a very low-breath squat, a big fart came right out. Again, I pretended that it did not happen, but based on her face, I could tell that of course she noticed! She was probably trying desperately not to laugh, for all I know.
So my question is, why are farts so darn funny? Is it the element of surprise? You never know when they might suddenly appear? Is it the noise that they make? Is that noise funny just in itself, and the fact that we make that noise from our bodies makes it even funnier?
Whatever the case, today I didn't find my fart funny. Today, I was terrified that this stranger was going to think I was some weird, gross person who farts really loud in public. Now, I did fart really loud in public, but why would she think I was weird and gross? In fact, in my experience, as I have mentioned, I find other people's farts to be hilarious, so in retrospect, maybe she was really just trying not to laugh, but if she did laugh, it could have been an amazing moment.
I declare, let us all embrace the humour of our farts! If they slip out, let us embrace their hilarity, and allow others to do the same!!
Love and kindness all.
Sunday, January 27, 2013
Such a poser
This last week I decided it would be fun to explore the Ottawa University campus, as I have never been there before. When I got there, I decided the game would be to fit in as much as I could. To blend in, if you will. I got on a bus that said it would take me there, and was on my way.
I could tell which stop to get off at mostly based on the amount of young people wearing backpacks who decided it was time to exit. I followed. A 20-something man with a green backpack was right in front of me, so I followed him off of the bus, through a tunnel and into a building on campus. It turned out to be the education building. Cool, I thought. I could totally pass as an education student.
Turns out it was harder to blend in to a place I had never been than I thought. I wandered around the building trying to find something interesting to do without looking like I didn't know where I was going, but I couldn't find ANYTHING but a little hallway with a lot of couches that people were studying on, and being REALLY quiet. I put my backpack down on one of the couches and pretended to be looking for something in my backpack, as I glanced around to look for a staircase, or SOMETHING interesting. Couldn't see a thing. I got up and left. Pshhh, education was boring.
I walked into the next building, which was the university center. Here we go! First off they were having a poster sale, which just brought me right back to my university days. Scouring through posters, trying to decide on one new one for my room, which I would hate by the following year and throw away anyway. Buying three other posters that were mediocre but on SALE for my family members as part of their Christmas presents for the following year, which they would eventually throw away as well. Then there was a display of a ton of clubs trying to advertise for their particular activity. A lot of flyers were pushed in my face, and then one very sweet lady asked me if I would like her flyer, which was refreshing. She was part of the meditation club, and they had a free meditation class happening later on. I gladly took one, and decided I would stop by later. As I wandered through hallways, I was stopped by a young man trying to survey University students. My plan to blend was working too well! I was tempted to go along with it, but right away I felt guilty and told him I didn't actually go there. He looked very confused, and just kind of stumbled off backwards. I think he thought I was lying to avoid him. Ah well.
As I made my way into the next building I saw some students wandering into a class room and I was feeling adventurous so I followed them in. They were heading into a class that had already started and was showing a film in mandarin. (I think...) It was interesting! From what I gathered, it was about a young girl who was forced into smuggling some kind of drugs by a group of scary-looking men. Why a language course (I'm assuming that's what it was) would choose to show this movie, is beyond me. I snuck out before the movie was over, and continued on my way. I quickly found the library and INSTANTLY started to look up Canadian playwrights, and off I went. I ended up reading "The Clockmaker" by Stephen Massicotte, a playwright I love, and found it to be quite an interesting tale. I tried to get onto the wireless internet, however, it required a student number and password. For a few minutes I glanced around the room and saw one new person just logging on, I thought maybe if I walked behind them I could try to see it, haha, but that seemed ridiculous so I gave up.
It was time for the meditation class after all. I made my way back to the center, and wandered up to the 3rd floor looking for 301, and could not find it for the life of me. I circled the floor three times, and finally asked some girls if they knew. They told me to circle the floor and look. I circled AGAIN, because I wanted them to feel they had been useful in their advice, and then gave them a shrug as I made my way down to the first floor. Maybe it had been 103 instead, I thought, and looked for 103. It was locked. Alright, I give up.
In my experience, if something doesn't quite work out, there is usually something much more interesting to come. And it did. As I wandered outside once more, I started to hear a bunch of dogs bark, and was way too curious to pass it up. I found a tiny winter festival happening behind one of the buildings with a dog sled and festivities going on, and french canadian AWFUL pop music blasting. It was GREAT!
I got in a line up, because it seemed like the thing to do, and as I made my way to the front some girl at the desk asked me what year I was in, I spouted out "first year, arts." She didn't bat an eye (of course) ticked off her list and handed me a pile of coupons. I got into the next line and in a few minutes had a free beavertail and snow-maple lollipop in hand, and was next up for a ride in the dogsleds!
The dog sled ride was lame. Just once in a circle around a small park (and I've had some pretty awesome dog sled rides before, so it just seemed silly!) Anyway, it was still hilarious!
I devoured the beavertail, and decided that after a successful day as a fake student, I was done. I found my way onto a bus, and headed off, feeling just a tiny bit mischievous, and with a little cinnamon and sugar sprinkled on my mitts.
Love and kindness all.
I could tell which stop to get off at mostly based on the amount of young people wearing backpacks who decided it was time to exit. I followed. A 20-something man with a green backpack was right in front of me, so I followed him off of the bus, through a tunnel and into a building on campus. It turned out to be the education building. Cool, I thought. I could totally pass as an education student.
Turns out it was harder to blend in to a place I had never been than I thought. I wandered around the building trying to find something interesting to do without looking like I didn't know where I was going, but I couldn't find ANYTHING but a little hallway with a lot of couches that people were studying on, and being REALLY quiet. I put my backpack down on one of the couches and pretended to be looking for something in my backpack, as I glanced around to look for a staircase, or SOMETHING interesting. Couldn't see a thing. I got up and left. Pshhh, education was boring.
I walked into the next building, which was the university center. Here we go! First off they were having a poster sale, which just brought me right back to my university days. Scouring through posters, trying to decide on one new one for my room, which I would hate by the following year and throw away anyway. Buying three other posters that were mediocre but on SALE for my family members as part of their Christmas presents for the following year, which they would eventually throw away as well. Then there was a display of a ton of clubs trying to advertise for their particular activity. A lot of flyers were pushed in my face, and then one very sweet lady asked me if I would like her flyer, which was refreshing. She was part of the meditation club, and they had a free meditation class happening later on. I gladly took one, and decided I would stop by later. As I wandered through hallways, I was stopped by a young man trying to survey University students. My plan to blend was working too well! I was tempted to go along with it, but right away I felt guilty and told him I didn't actually go there. He looked very confused, and just kind of stumbled off backwards. I think he thought I was lying to avoid him. Ah well.
As I made my way into the next building I saw some students wandering into a class room and I was feeling adventurous so I followed them in. They were heading into a class that had already started and was showing a film in mandarin. (I think...) It was interesting! From what I gathered, it was about a young girl who was forced into smuggling some kind of drugs by a group of scary-looking men. Why a language course (I'm assuming that's what it was) would choose to show this movie, is beyond me. I snuck out before the movie was over, and continued on my way. I quickly found the library and INSTANTLY started to look up Canadian playwrights, and off I went. I ended up reading "The Clockmaker" by Stephen Massicotte, a playwright I love, and found it to be quite an interesting tale. I tried to get onto the wireless internet, however, it required a student number and password. For a few minutes I glanced around the room and saw one new person just logging on, I thought maybe if I walked behind them I could try to see it, haha, but that seemed ridiculous so I gave up.
It was time for the meditation class after all. I made my way back to the center, and wandered up to the 3rd floor looking for 301, and could not find it for the life of me. I circled the floor three times, and finally asked some girls if they knew. They told me to circle the floor and look. I circled AGAIN, because I wanted them to feel they had been useful in their advice, and then gave them a shrug as I made my way down to the first floor. Maybe it had been 103 instead, I thought, and looked for 103. It was locked. Alright, I give up.
In my experience, if something doesn't quite work out, there is usually something much more interesting to come. And it did. As I wandered outside once more, I started to hear a bunch of dogs bark, and was way too curious to pass it up. I found a tiny winter festival happening behind one of the buildings with a dog sled and festivities going on, and french canadian AWFUL pop music blasting. It was GREAT!
I got in a line up, because it seemed like the thing to do, and as I made my way to the front some girl at the desk asked me what year I was in, I spouted out "first year, arts." She didn't bat an eye (of course) ticked off her list and handed me a pile of coupons. I got into the next line and in a few minutes had a free beavertail and snow-maple lollipop in hand, and was next up for a ride in the dogsleds!
The dog sled ride was lame. Just once in a circle around a small park (and I've had some pretty awesome dog sled rides before, so it just seemed silly!) Anyway, it was still hilarious!
I devoured the beavertail, and decided that after a successful day as a fake student, I was done. I found my way onto a bus, and headed off, feeling just a tiny bit mischievous, and with a little cinnamon and sugar sprinkled on my mitts.
Love and kindness all.
Monday, January 21, 2013
Harry Met Sally Theorizing
-->
Today I wanted to wander aimlessly. Sometimes I just get
that way. The way my day worked out, however, was that I only had a few hours
to do so. I decided to allow myself to spend the hour and a half that I had to
kill in Ottawa by hopping on a bus and seeing where it took me, and going into
some random place. I knew what
direction I was heading, so it wasn’t as awesome as it sounds, but I didn’t
know what to expect. I took a bus South into old Ottawa, and got off at a
random stop, and wandered into a pub called “Patty’s Pub.” It was lovely.
I sat at a table right next to a fire, had a tea, and a
really sweet server who told me all about how she wanted to be an actor
someday, but right now she was a journalist, haha. I ordered the only think on
the menu that I have never tried in my little life, which was a potato pancake
dish that was special to this particular pub. They called it “Boxty” and I had
the one with salmon, sundried tomatoes and some kind of sauce on it. It was
delightful. And huge.
As I allowed my very full stomach to digest, and sipped on
some tea, I couldn’t help but start to notice the interesting conversation of
the two people sitting behind me. It was a man and a woman, who I immediately
assumed were a couple when I walked in, but now were discussing what the man
should do to confront his wife about how much money she is spending regularly.
I found myself instantly shocked, not because of the conversation, but the
relationship. I was puzzled by how blunt they were with each other, how fearlessly
they would question each other, and knowing that they were not a couple. I
couldn’t wrap my brain around it, until the gentleman slipped out “you know,
they live right near mom.” Oh! They were brother and sister!
This realization was interesting to me on a few levels.
Number one: I never had a brother, and it is a relationship that I have never
fully understood. Number two: Why is it that I assume women and men can only
have candid and real conversations when they are a couple, or siblings? This made
me reflect on my friendships with men. I think on some level I have always
bought into the whole “When Harry Met Sally” reasoning that women and men can’t
really be friends because the sex stuff always gets in the way, except that I
agree with Harry’s alteration to this rule, which was that when both
parties are in serious relationships it can also work. I would have to say one party in a serious relationship does it as well (and, of course, if one of them is gay, it also works.) I know this because as soon as I find
out a man is in a relationship, I find myself instantly feeling more at ease
with them. I am allowed to be friendly without them taking it to mean something
else. There are, of course, exceptions to this rule that have developed through
the years, but the majority of cases do follow it.
I think what it really boils down to is this: I am so afraid
of giving someone the wrong impression (ie: leading them on in some way) that I
put up a subconscious (and sometimes conscious) wall. The funny thing about
this is that I sometimes do it before I even have a chance to decide if I might
actually be possibly interested in someone. It's also a pretty good barrier for me, to keep me from developing feelings for someone in case they turn out to only be interested in being friends.
Now, I have a new goal. My new goal is to break this rule,
and allow my friendships to blossom with the men in my life without assuming
that they will want to sleep with me, or that it has to go anywhere near that
direction. Also, if it does, and I am not interested, it’s not the end of the
world to say “I think we’re more buddy material than dating material.” On the other hand, if it does, and I am the party interested, and the other party is not, I will live. It
requires a lot more bravery to go with the flow, and have a friendship without
planning where it is going, but I think I am ready to do it.
"I'll have what she's having"
Love and kindness all.
Wednesday, January 9, 2013
The bald soprano
Warning that this post may fall into the TOO MUCH INFORMATION category, so I suggest you stop reading if you might become uncomfortable. You are fully warned.
Before starting my little adventure in Ottawa, I didn't get a chance to get my regular bikini sugaring done at my usual place. I didn't really care all that much, until I saw that there was only one dressing room, and we would all be changing together, at which point I began to feel a little self conscious, so I figured I would just find a place in Ottawa. I set out researching places and came across one that was not too far from where I was staying that seemed to get good online reviews and booked an appointment.
I found my way down there without getting lost (woowhoo!) and waited in the very pretty waiting room for my turn. When I went in the room it looked a little bit different, but not alarmingly so, a paper-covered table in the middle of the room with a towel on it was waiting for me. As a little Korean woman ushered me in, she asked me to get undressed and cover myself with the towel. Now, usually I get a little pair of paper underwear to put on as well, but I didn't see any, so I asked her if I should keep my underwear on. "No, no, all off" She answered. Okay, this was going to be different!
I waited on the table with a little towel covering everything important. The little Korean woman came back in and got to work, and I started chattering as to distract myself from guessing when the pain would start. First off, I have to say, thank god I'm not that shy, 'cause she was lifting my legs up and poking around all over the place. As I babbled about the show I was doing and what kinds of things I want to do while I'm here, I didn't notice that she had taken off a little bit more than a usual bikini... and I paused my babble to try to figure out how to ask what exactly was going on... at the exact same time, she suddenly realized it too. "Oh no" she said. Not exactly the best thing to hear... "I started to do a brazillian" Well that makes a lot more sense. "Do you want me to finish it up or just do the bikini on the other side?" It was a pretty funny question given that one way would leave me completely lopsided, and so I figured it was better to just let her finish the thing.
Overall, there's really the same kind of pain no matter what kind of wax/sugaring you get, it just lasts a little longer, the more you get taken off! Luckily (very luckily) my lady was ridiculously quick and had been doing it for 15 years, so she knew exactly what she was doing. That is key. The other very funny moment came when she asked me "Do you want me to do underneath?" I had no idea what she was talking about. "I'm sorry, what?" "Under, you know, under" I was still puzzled "your bum?" Oh, now I got it. "No, nope, I'm good! Thanks anyway" I was very quick to pipe out.
A little special cream later and I was done! It wasn't as bad as I would have expected, but we'll see how I am doing a little later on today... Have to say though ladies, I dunno why you do it! I feel like a prepubescent girl. I don't think I'll be doing the full monty again. I'll stick with my little bikini waxes, thank you!
The way home was also a really interesting adventure. I ran into a person I knew and was happily chatting as a man from the back of the bus walked in between us, looked me in the eye and said "You smell bad, take a shower" and moved to the front of the bus and sat down. I didn't know what to respond with so I said "Oh, okay." And watched as he told the man next to him that I smelled bad and waved his hand in front of his nose.
I have to admit that for about thirty seconds I wondered if maybe I did smell. As some of you might recall from a previous post about deodorant, I am a little self conscious about smells. I knew I put on deodorant just before I left so that couldn't be it. Perhaps he could smell the cream or something? For those thirty seconds I was sure that everyone at the front of the bus was looking at me, and thinking I smelled bad. It was a paranoia I haven't felt probably since middle school. Gosh, it is such a horrible feeling to think everyone is making fun of you! Anyway, it was just a very crazy man, I soon discovered as everyone around him in turn moved seats as far away from him as they could get, and with every move, he would point his middle finger at them until they saw it.
When I had reached my stop, I could see from my peripheral that he was pointing his middle finger at me the entire time I waited for the bus to stop, but I refused to give him the satisfaction of letting him know I had seen it, until I was on the sidewalk safely off the bus, as which point I flashed him a giant grin, in a "Kill em with kindness" fashion.
Oh, just a regular day in good ol' Ottawa!
Love and Kindness all.
Before starting my little adventure in Ottawa, I didn't get a chance to get my regular bikini sugaring done at my usual place. I didn't really care all that much, until I saw that there was only one dressing room, and we would all be changing together, at which point I began to feel a little self conscious, so I figured I would just find a place in Ottawa. I set out researching places and came across one that was not too far from where I was staying that seemed to get good online reviews and booked an appointment.
I found my way down there without getting lost (woowhoo!) and waited in the very pretty waiting room for my turn. When I went in the room it looked a little bit different, but not alarmingly so, a paper-covered table in the middle of the room with a towel on it was waiting for me. As a little Korean woman ushered me in, she asked me to get undressed and cover myself with the towel. Now, usually I get a little pair of paper underwear to put on as well, but I didn't see any, so I asked her if I should keep my underwear on. "No, no, all off" She answered. Okay, this was going to be different!
I waited on the table with a little towel covering everything important. The little Korean woman came back in and got to work, and I started chattering as to distract myself from guessing when the pain would start. First off, I have to say, thank god I'm not that shy, 'cause she was lifting my legs up and poking around all over the place. As I babbled about the show I was doing and what kinds of things I want to do while I'm here, I didn't notice that she had taken off a little bit more than a usual bikini... and I paused my babble to try to figure out how to ask what exactly was going on... at the exact same time, she suddenly realized it too. "Oh no" she said. Not exactly the best thing to hear... "I started to do a brazillian" Well that makes a lot more sense. "Do you want me to finish it up or just do the bikini on the other side?" It was a pretty funny question given that one way would leave me completely lopsided, and so I figured it was better to just let her finish the thing.
Overall, there's really the same kind of pain no matter what kind of wax/sugaring you get, it just lasts a little longer, the more you get taken off! Luckily (very luckily) my lady was ridiculously quick and had been doing it for 15 years, so she knew exactly what she was doing. That is key. The other very funny moment came when she asked me "Do you want me to do underneath?" I had no idea what she was talking about. "I'm sorry, what?" "Under, you know, under" I was still puzzled "your bum?" Oh, now I got it. "No, nope, I'm good! Thanks anyway" I was very quick to pipe out.
A little special cream later and I was done! It wasn't as bad as I would have expected, but we'll see how I am doing a little later on today... Have to say though ladies, I dunno why you do it! I feel like a prepubescent girl. I don't think I'll be doing the full monty again. I'll stick with my little bikini waxes, thank you!
The way home was also a really interesting adventure. I ran into a person I knew and was happily chatting as a man from the back of the bus walked in between us, looked me in the eye and said "You smell bad, take a shower" and moved to the front of the bus and sat down. I didn't know what to respond with so I said "Oh, okay." And watched as he told the man next to him that I smelled bad and waved his hand in front of his nose.
I have to admit that for about thirty seconds I wondered if maybe I did smell. As some of you might recall from a previous post about deodorant, I am a little self conscious about smells. I knew I put on deodorant just before I left so that couldn't be it. Perhaps he could smell the cream or something? For those thirty seconds I was sure that everyone at the front of the bus was looking at me, and thinking I smelled bad. It was a paranoia I haven't felt probably since middle school. Gosh, it is such a horrible feeling to think everyone is making fun of you! Anyway, it was just a very crazy man, I soon discovered as everyone around him in turn moved seats as far away from him as they could get, and with every move, he would point his middle finger at them until they saw it.
When I had reached my stop, I could see from my peripheral that he was pointing his middle finger at me the entire time I waited for the bus to stop, but I refused to give him the satisfaction of letting him know I had seen it, until I was on the sidewalk safely off the bus, as which point I flashed him a giant grin, in a "Kill em with kindness" fashion.
Oh, just a regular day in good ol' Ottawa!
Love and Kindness all.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)