Really Bad Habits

Of all the reasons why I don't like living with my parents (crazy long commute to/from work, being far from the city where all the fun is, being stuck in the suburbs, having my parents around, etc.), I think the one that bothers me the most is that I don't like the habits I fall in/out of when I'm at home. For the five years that I lived on my own I did what most adults would do: I did my own laundry, I went grocery shopping, I cooked, I cleaned and generally took care of myself and all my affairs in a fairly responsible manner.

Take a snapshot of my life now and you'd see a lazy twenty-something who leaves her dirty laundry in a pile in her room for her mother to pick up. You'd see someone who's the last to eat a meal and leaves all her dirty dishes in the sink at the end of the night. She's also the same one that does no chores around the house, not even clean her own space and instead allows her mother to clean her washroom. You'd see someone who doesn't bother shopping for food, doesn't make any food and when faced with breakfast on Saturday mornings would sooner eat a Nestle ice cream cone than even make a bowl of cereal. PEOPLE. I am eating ICE CREAM for breakfast. There is something seriously wrong here. In short, I've become a lazy-ass of the worst variety.

So yesterday morning, after sleeping in, watching infomercials and eating junk food first thing in the morning (on the menu: a handful of cold dumplings straight outta the fridge, a handful of coconut-milk-coated-and-deep-fried peanuts, and aforementioned Nestle Drumstick - OMG - I still can't get over the ice cream...), I instantly perked up when I realized that I had a spare car to myself for the day and took off for the mall. I had a couple of errands that I needed to run - responsible things, like bringing my shoes in for repair, buying face wash, toothpaste, and I had a coupon to use at the Gap! I looked forward to doing independent adult stuff like that.

Three hours later, I left the mall without any face wash nor any toothpaste, having not used my coupon (I did at least manage to bring my shoes in for repair) and instead had two shopping bags filled with THREE HUNDRED DOLLARS' worth of new tops, cardigans, a dress and a pair of faux-snake skin heels. All those commercials are right - cars and credit cards really do give you a sense of freedom. Well, "freedom", or the idea that you can do whatever the hell you want in the most fiscally irresponsible of ways.

The only good thing that came of yesterday was going for a run after returning from the mall (perhaps I needed to cleanse myself of the guilt that comes with blowing that much money in one session at the mall), only to scarf down dinner afterwards (made by mum, of course) and then take the car and head downtown because I hate being stuck in the suburbs and the city is where all the fun is anyway.

These will all be arguments I use when trying to convince my family that me moving out (the sooner the better!) is a REALLY good idea.
8:38 am

Saturday, August 22, 2009

Jumping The Gun

My first day back at work wasn't unlike the first day of school.

"Oh welcome back! It's nice to see you again!"
"Oh wow, you're so tanned!"
"So how was your summer?!"
"Oh wow, your hair is so long! It grows so fast!"
...etc.

It was nice though; being able to walk around and chat with people gave me reasons to take breaks from everything else. Day 1 was a bit much, admittedly. I was faced with a totally bizarre feeling as I walked into an office after seven weeks away, my Inbox held about 200 emails awaiting me, I found out I had a conference call at 11am that morning, and I had to prep to help train a new staff member the next morning. Work was a tidal wave and I was a beach resort in Thailand.* So, it shouldn't really come as a surprise that on my first day back I was already thinking about filling in a vacation request form.

Plus, I hear Paris in October is really nice...

Oh, and re: anxieties two posts previous - I was wrong. Yahoo!


*I wasn't the first to say this.

10:27 pm

Sunday, August 16, 2009

Milking It: A Sob Story

A frightening realization hit me as I stood at the counter at the bus station the other day. I had just asked for a one-way ticket out of the city and froze as I was about to say that it was a student fare because ...it wasn't. It hit me more at that moment than it ever has; not at my convocation, not when I got my grad photos, not even when I see my framed diploma on the wall in the family room every day - I am no longer a student. And I haven't been for more than a year. I am a full-fledged, 25 year old *GULP* adult. And with my new age bracket came new bus fares. More expensive bus fares.

Now, I should probably clarify that this wasn't the first time I had taken the inter-city bus since finishing school. I have many a time in the past, and (get this!) was still able to buy my tickets at the student rates because I had a completely valid, totally legit student card. Hey, it's not my fault that when I registered as a first year my university was actually issuing student cards that were valid for SIX YEARS. I probably should have been insulted that they assumed that I might be in school for that long (sure, I did five years, but SIX? is a long time), but didn't think anything of it at the time. So up until May of 2009 I was technically, according to this card, still a student at my university, so why not take advantage of the discount whenever I could? Except that this past Wednesday was no longer May 2009. Hence, the scene at the counter.

HOWEVER, if someone behind said counter assumes that I am a student based on the fact that I still look like a teenager when I don't have make-up on (and sometimes still do even when I'm wearing loads of it), and asks if I have student ID and says to me that they still consider it valid even if it expired in May because they assume we're getting it renewed in September, then THAT'S a totally different story. Right?

Even in France I was getting discounts on train tickets because 25 is still considered to be in the "Youth" bracket. My student days might be over, but I'm still living with at my parents' house (*SOB*), make a lot less than I should be, commute 4 hours everyday on public transit, and bring a packed lunch to work. The government may label me as an adult, but seriously? Does my lifestyle sound even remotely adult-ish to you? Certainly not adult-ish enough to be paying full fares to visit friends out of town! It might not be totally honest, but I'm milking this for as long as I can! ...until September when I don't have an excuse anymore. *SOB SOB*

PS: I'm back at the office tomorrow after six and a half weeks away. 1.5 weeks spent on tour, 4 weeks spent bumming around overseas, and 1 week spent at home/camping to recover from being on holiday. Suffice to say, I am SO not looking forward to work tomorrow. *SOB SOB SOB*

9:20 pm

Wednesday, August 12, 2009

Cupid Is A Friggin' Tease

It happens every time. I get home from a long sojourn overseas and I sit around at home, moping all alone, lamenting the fact that I'm not still over the sea (well, over the ocean, I guess).

This time it's especially hard because I've had to leave one of the most beautiful, romantic cities in the world, where a particularly wonderful boy lives, and come back HERE - where it's not romantic, where there are no fresh baguettes (at least not the way the French make them), no deliriously delicious red wines, and while there may be many a wonderful boy, none of them are quite like the one over THERE.

It's true and painfully obvious, I'm smitten to the core. Right down to my bones. You may have heard that I am most unfortunately and arduously attached. And while I was so smitten that I extended my stay from three days to ten, met his parent (dad was around and in town as well), went on a little trip out the French countryside together, and made plans to return in October, I've got to snap out of it. Because? HELLO he lives in Paris and I live HERE. He's also not as ...enthusiastic as I am about writing or calling or staying in touch (really? is he REALLY that busy?) so I'm going to have to stop obsessively checking my email and messages and definitely stop jumping every time my phone rings the long distance ring because SIGH it's probably not going to work out.

All I have to say about this is: I REALLY hope that I'm wrong.
And also: Wah. Waaaahhh.

12:09 pm

Saturday, August 08, 2009

Family Fun Is Numba One

I'm safe, sound and at home. And while there are moments wherein I strongly wish that I was still over the sea, I have to admit that there are some fantastic things about being back with my family. See the following scenes from today:

1. At dim sum this morning, celebratory meal #1 for daddy's birthday, we were discussing the merits of rolling a peeled, boiled egg over bumps and bruises, and using soy sauce on burns. Apparently egg yolks have healing properties and don't ask about the soy sauce. I felt like I was in My Big, Fat, Greek Chinese Wedding.

2. This afternoon at the kitchen table, while waiting for celebratory meal #2, showing my parents on a globe where my latest travels had taken me and then discussing the orbits of the earth and the moon around the sun. My brother and I eventually pulled fruit out of the fridge to demonstrate said orbits - we had an orange as the sun and a cherry as the moon. It was awesome.

5:43 pm

Wednesday, August 05, 2009

Germany So Far...

What's cruel, because all of life's happinesses always seem to need some element of not-so-happy, of course, is that I have had to leave Paris and the fresh baguettes and delicious wines and the cute Canadian boy that lives there and come to Frankfurt, where my first souvenir is a bill for a 40 euro fine for not having a ticket with me on the train en route to meeting my friend.

[Luckily, the nice German boy I met on the platform pulled out his wallet and paid the fine for me because I didn't even have 40 euros to my name at that point. This was after he helped me figure out where I was going, carried my pack, offered to show me Frankfurt because I was alone, but before he got off at my stop with me to make sure I met my friend alright. I probably owe him my first-born.]

Lesson learned, wallet empty, missing Paris.

6:08 am