8 months

8 months ago, I arrived in Toronto to start my MA degree at the University of Toronto ... and two weeks later, I withdrew, citing "irreconcilable differences" with the drama program. I started to wonder (now that I had moved all my stuff here and signed a year-long lease) what I was going to do for the next 11 months and two weeks before I went back to school. I felt overwhelmed. I felt disappointed in myself; I was desperate to complete all my schooling so that I could start 'life' at a relatively young age. A year off with nothing planned felt like a waste of my time and meant that my entire adult life would commence a year later than I had hoped (at the ripe old age of 24!).

Most of all, I was terrified of how I was going to survive in a city where I didn't know anyone and wasn't really doing anything; passing all of that time and managing to be happy seemed like an impossible task.

For the first 5 months I nannied for a wealthy family in Forest Hill, 60 hours a week. Every day felt like an eternity and I often came home at the end of my shift too tired to care about making my own dinner, after spending an hour cooking food for the family and then leaving just as they sat down to eat it. I was lonely (a four year old does not a best friend make!) and frustrated that my job duties were limited to changing diapers and being yelled at for various misdemeanors such as using the wrong knife to cut the kids apples, and (gasp) washing the frying pans by hands instead of putting them in the dishwasher. After coming home several days in a row and crying myself to sleep in January, I quit.

7 months to go.

I got a job working in a restaurant downtown as a hostess. In general, I've really enjoyed it, and as soon as I wasn't working 11 or 12 hours a day at a job I hated, time started to fly by. I made friends. Spring began. And all of a sudden ... it was the end of April. 4 months to go.

I just got back from a weeklong trip to BC and I start a new job on Monday morning, working as HR administrator for the Canadian National Exhibition Casino. For the next 4 months I'm going to be working long hours, making lots of money and hopefully time will pass by so quickly that it will be August before I know it.

I didn't mean for this to be such a long entry.

The point is -if I have a point at all: what I once considered to be a 'pointless year' that I just had to 'get through' has actually afforded me the opportunity to learn things that I would never have learned in school. I have been miserable, and survived. I have been worked like a dog, and survived. I have slowly become a citizen of toronto, navigating the transit system and walking home clutching my purse at 2 in the morning ... and survived. I am stronger, more mature, more open minded and more laid back than I used to be. I don't feel as smart, but I feel more prepared to start my adult life. I have had good naps and read great books. Most importantly, I have learned to value my friends - most of them are out of town and time together is precious.

It has been a wonderful and awful and scary 8 months. I am so glad to be in the 'home stretch' - looking forward to September. I am reminded now that there really is a silver lining in what feel like the worst days. I hope to make the most of what I have left in my useless year off.

My Four-Legged Friend

This is a video called "Waldo Takes it To The Bear" (and hopefully posting it here is successful!) The bear is a stuffed animal named Jasper that was a gift to my mom from her ex-husband ... when he split, the bear became Waldo's hump buddy. We like to think that they're friends with benefits. Waldo tends to hump Jasper at the most inappropriate times; when company is over, or if two people are snuggling romantically on the couch. It's a riot - he could hump for hours.

So without further ado, here is my adorable dog Waldo, taking it to the bear.

Victoria

I flew into Victoria, BC last night and am spending the day at my grandparents house on the tip of the North Saanich peninsula before catching a ferry back to the mainland tonight. Today my dad and I took a long hike through the backwoods and I got an overwhelming feeling of gratitude. I am SO thankful to be in such a wonderful place ... both right now (I love BC) and in my life.

I've had a few soul searching conversations lately that will probably spin off into a blog entry or two, but for the time being, here are some pics from this afternoon.

Felicia (my future-sister-in-law, I'm sure!) and me

DSC00211
Originally uploaded by just bri.

Me and my brother Regan

DSC00212
Originally uploaded by just bri.

Happy to be in BC!

DSC00215
Originally uploaded by just bri.

Procrastination makes it happen

I made a pact with the big guy that if I got into Teacher's College at U of T this year, I wouldn't pull a single all-nighter in a desperate attempt to get an assignment done the night before it was due. And I really plan on standing by this - I mean, he made good on his promise to me; it's the least I can do in return.

That doesn't mean, however, that the dirty habit of procrastination doesn't still live inside of me.

Two weeks ago, a tiny red flower in my neighbor's yard pushed its way out of the cold, frozen, barren, toxic Toronto soil. I was in awe, as I am every year, of the amazing power of nature; how things grow and survive in the strangest little worlds. Every morning, I would greet my tiny red little friend, growing alone in a garden that still appeared to be in winter mode. I decided that I would photograph the flower as the first sign of spring, post it in my blog, and continue to make posts as tulips and weeds and daffodils began to bloom in the houses on my street. A photoblog on spring.

Now, two... maybe three weeks later, ALL of the flowers, trees and plants are in full bloom. The red flower has died, already completing its miniature life cycle. And I still haven't taking a single freaking picture. It might as well be winter again for all I care, because I just can't seem to live up to my own big plans. Please just imagine how nice my little street is now with green buds on all the trees and floppy daffodils in every front yard, and imagine what a total reject I feel when I leave my house every morning, sans camera, and walk by all these plants that I planned on photographing. And if the plants aren't mocking me, well - I'm sure you will be.

Maybe next spring, I'll get around to those pictures :)

An Honest Day's Work

I will be going home in a few days ... not home to Calgary (which is where I was born and lived for 18 years). Not "home" in Toronto (which is slowly starting to feel that way) but home to Vancouver, where my family is.

Last year, my mom, brother, dad, step mother, two sisters, an aunt and my grandparents all lived in Vancouver. Now, with my dad on Vancouver Island, my sisters and step-mom living in Calgary and my brother and his girlfriend making their own move to Calgary, I'm not sure if I can define Vancouver as my home anymore. I feel stuck between 4 or 5 possible worlds and don't know how to reconcile them.

Either way, it's off to Victoria on Sunday, and then taking the ferry across to the mainland on Monday. I am genuinely excited to be going back; Vancouver is literally a breath of fresh air, and far and away my favorite city in the world (although I've probably only been to 20 or 30 of them). I love the way it smells in the morning - like earth and worms and water. I love driving on the hilly little roads that wind along the coast. I love the ferrys. I love feeding the ducks in Stanley Park and kayaking in Deep Cove. I love that the pavement is black and smooth - no frost to crack it and fade it. I love driving in the rain and the plants and moss that grow everywhere. Every place I've ever lived has a little bit of a 'home' feeling for me, but I've never felt attached to a city like the way I do with Vancouver.

And then when I get back (to the real world, I suppose), I'll be starting a new job working at the Canadian National Exhibition, doing all of the hiring and HR work for the 600 employees that they hire for the charity casino. It's like being Head Gael, but with card dealers instead of Gaels and poker chips instead of frosh! I can't wait; if there's one thing I want to do this summer, it's make money to prove I'm still the successful one in my family, rather than the dud I've been written of as :)

Stick It

You may have heard of the new gymnastics movie coming out on April 28th called "Stick It" ... or then again, you may not have. It didn't even register on my radar until I heard from my mom that my cousin Nicole (who was born 3 months before me and was my unstoppable best friend while growing up) is cast in it! She's been an elite gymnast her whole life, and was offered a part in the movie playing a member of the US-National Team.

So obviously I'm gonna to see the movie ... and probably squirm in my seat and yell out "That's Nicole!" every time I see her. If only I could have accomplished so much in my 22 years :)

Nicole - I'm proud of you, even if your movie debut happens to be in a stupid teen-flick. I think you're amazing (I may even be jealous- one of the stars of the film is Vanessa Lengies, who was in the show "American Dreams" ... which Alana and I LOVED, and who happens to be Canadian!)

Here's a pic of my mom, her sister (my Aunt Daria) and the more famous member of my family. For more info, go to http://stickit.movies.go.com/

As Bad As I Want To Be

I'm not sure if I should be repeating any of this in a semi-public venue, but it was almost too good to keep to myself. Here's the story, and I'll keep it brief.

Background information: I'm a bit of a weenie. I've always been the one to run behind my friends and say, "guys, are you sure this is a good idea? Aren't we gonna get in trouble?" Whether it was making bike jumps with my brother or getting drunk during 4th period spare ... I chickened out, terrified of somehow being discovered as anything other than the perfect child. I've always been good. I've never stolen anything, smoked anything, been horribly drunk or basically, according to some people, had any fun in my life.

So tonight I go out with three other girls from work for Greek food and drinks on the Danforth (I've also never gone out for Greek food - seriously. But that's beside the point). When Michelle and I show up to meet the others, we find our boss sitting at the table (our 40 year old BOSS!). Apparently she ran into one of the girls downtown and invited her for a glass of wine, which ended up being almost 4 bottles by the time we arrived at 7:30. In short, my boss and two of my co-workers were shitfaced at a very nice restaurant where being shitfaced is probably not very attractive. I ordered a Diet Coke, mostly because I'm too broke to drink. My boss proceeded to tell me I was like a "kindergarten teacher", needed to "loosen the fuck up" and "fuck some guys". In my honour, she took it upon herself to open a bar tab for the table and supply me with as many drinks as I could polish off over dinner. I got called out - my own boss was calling me a goodie-goodie. A girl I worked with told me that she thought I would be "so fun" to get drunk with. Not wanting to be too 'good', I start drinking.

Fine. Fast-forward one hour. My boss is drunk, my friends are drunk, I'm quickly getting out of control. Our poor waiter has fielded slaps on the bum and questions about his sexual history and preferences from our embarrassingly loud table. We finish dinner, all paid for by my boss. Then things start to get sketchy.

She suggests that we all go down the street to a bar called "Jilly's". "Sure, I think. This is a great idea. Let's go to a bar called Jilly's." It's 9pm, I can barely walk straight, I have NO idea where in Toronto I am and I don't have any money. If I had lived in Toronto longer, I might have known that "Jilly's" is actually a seedy, disgusting strip club with old women who have pancake boobs and back rolls dancing onstage, and the men have greasy hair and wear trench coats and touch themselves underneath the table. At some point, I call Steve on the phone and yell to him "I think we're going to a strip club!" (which his mother, sitting next to him heard ... but that's another story).

We're ushered in. I'm literally scared. I start to wish that I was curled up in my PJ's reading a good book. Everyone has another drink. At this point, I have no idea who's paying for any of this anymore. My boss, without any warning, announces that she's better looking than the dancers who work there, climbs up onto the stage and starts to STRIP OFF HER CLOTHING. I see boobies. I start to worry that we're in trouble. She argues with the bouncer that she "can't control herself when Barry White music is played" ... she promptly gets kicked out of the club. The atmosphere is getting tense here, folks. My girlfriend and I head to the bathroom, where two strippers are smoking up. I decide to hold my pee, or wet my pants. 20 minutes later, my drunk boss resurfaces with another server from the restaurant I work at (I have NO idea where she found him), and he, apparently, has brought cocaine with him. Like, seriously. Cocaine! I start shaking. Off they go to the bathroom to do a line, and I immediately have this conversation with myself:

"Self, this is very, very, very bad. We are going to get in trouble. Good girls don't hang out in strip clubs with coke heads. Especially not 40-year-old drunk boss coke head strippers. I am good, and this is bad."

Game over - my girlfriend and I mumbled our thanks and some lame excuse that we had somewhere to be, make our way to the subway, and wondered what work is going to be like tomorrow night. Awkward? Embarrassing? Funny?

The moral of the story is this: I really am more straight-laced than I thought, and I'm totally fine with that. I like having movie nights, going for walks in the evenings, playing with dogs and spending afternoons in chapters. I feel like there's a whole underground world out there that I'm both not invited to and not interested in; if that's what it means not to have any fun in my life, well I guess I'll take it. I've never been so happy to be me as I was tonight. Boring, frumpy, head-on-straight me; who would have thought being good could be so nice?

Project Earth

If you have a spare minute or two, head over to http://www.squarepeople.com/, and check out their Project Earth endeavor, which can be accessed by clicking on the link on the left-hand side of the page.

Basically, Project Earth is going to be a mosaic of 50,000 user submitted photos, used to create a map image of the earth. If you've ever seen a photo mosaic before, it's pretty phenomenal. If not, definitely go and look for yourself. They just started up and are looking for 50,000 individual contributors to email 1 photo each of anything you want to send them. Email yours in and pass the word on - you'll be part of the biggest collaborative art project in history (which, by itself, is pretty cool!)

Spring Fever

Could I BE any happier?
(Said, like Joey in friends, "Could I BE wearing any more clothes?")

One good thing happens, and all of a sudden my life starts to snowball in the right direction. My bills are paid. I got into teacher's college. I've been getting stellar interviews for summer jobs. My capri pants from last summer still fit. My new sandals don't give me blisters. I'm making fantastic friends at work and going out with them on a regular basis. My boyfriend and I are completely thrilled with each other. The streetcar always comes exactly when I need it to. My new hair cut and colour (see below)

are actually working out terrifically. My laundry is done (could I express to you how amazing it feels to have 20 pairs of socks to choose from? 30 clean and folded pairs of underwear?). I haven't lost ANYTHING in at least a month (knock wood). I don't know what I did to finally deserve some good karma, but I find that spring has brought with it so many welcome changes and exciting things.


I'm looking forward - right now, mostly to the summer. Here's a list of things that I want to do this summer; honestly, I can't wait. Steve and I may even be making our first trip of the year to the zoo to see the monkeys next week. Appearentely they're frisky in April!

THINGS TO DO, PLACES TO GO, SIGHTS TO SEE THIS SUMMER:

1.Kensington Market

I've never really taken the time to browse the market, and am really looking forward to going this summer on a regular basis

2.Canada's Wonderland

Put a roller coaster freak in roller coaster central, Canada ... and you have a very good day my friend. Steve and I are DEFINITELY going before school gets out - otherwise the lineups make it not worthwhile.

3.Niagra Falls

I just feel that as an Ontario-ite (Ontarian?) I should see this Canadian landmark sometime before I'm 30 and too old and jaded to care

4.Ontario Badlands

I went here quite a few times with Marcus and his family, and had SO much fun. These little mounds are bigger than people! It's the coolest place to play hide and seek.

5.Toronto Zoo

Monkeys and Lions and Hippos! (Oh my!)

6.Stratford Festival

I'm a drama major ... and I've never been. I know, I can hardly believe it myself. I want to see "Oliver", "South Pacific" and "Much Ado About Nothing" ... I'll probably have to hit them all in one weekend, but I'm not complaining!

7.Lunch and a Swim

Wanna know something cool? If you buy lunch at the Holiday in on King Street, you can swim in their rooftop pool for free afterwords. It's an awesome program and right across the street from my job. Guess where all the hostesses are going to be spending saturday afternoons before work?

8. Kayaking Toronto Islands

One of my favorite memories was of kayaking in Deep Cove, BC - hopefully I can find the same sort of experience in urban Ontario.

9.Toronto Climbing Gym

I was a 'rockhead' in junior high and high school - we had a local rock climbing gym and I was always in when I had time, working out on the walls. I can't wait to get back into it - and drag Steve with me as a belaying partner!

I'm sure there are more adventures all over the place in Toronto, and my goal for the summer, without going completely broke, is to try as many of them as I can. Any suggestions? Did I miss something awesome? Let me know!

-B

4 Questions on Musical Taste

One Song I Hate to Admit That I Like:
Sheryl Crow "All I Wanna Do"

Two Songs That Always Make Me Cry:
1. Pearl Jam "Last Kiss"
2. Jeff Buckley "Hallalujah" My dad played this for me in his car a few years ago while we were driving at night time to the ferry, and I found it so overwhelmingly aching, I started to bawl.

Three Songs (Okay, Four) I Would Dance To At My Wedding:
1. Ella Fitzgerald "At Last"
2. Neil Young "Harvest Moon"
3. The Beatles "In My Life"
4. Harry Connick Jr. "It Had To Be You"

Ten Songs I Can't Live Without:
1. The Kinks "Victoria"
2. The Rolling Stones "Beast of Burden"
3. Johnny Cash "I Walk the Line"
4. Tom Waits "Time"
5. Dire Straits "Romeo and Juliet"
6. Green Day "Welcome to Paradise"
7. Jann Arden "Good Mother"
8. Bob Dylan "It Ain't Me Babe"
9. U2 "Wild Horses"
10. Smashing Pumpkins "Tonight, Tonight"

The Most Important Thing

I've been thinking lately about relative importance; about what we assign value to in our lives and why. Take me, as an example. I have a room full of books, jewelry, posters, warm blankets, photographs of friends and dvds ... my things. Being in my room makes me feel safe and happy - each thing I own has its own story of conception, its own meaning attached to it, to create a room full of good memories and important icons. But even more importantly, I think, I surround myself with things that are special to me because they help me to define who I am. My taste in books and music, the color I choose to paint my walls (pale, pale pink), the pictures I chose to display, help me to place myself and centre my identity. In that sense, I suppose, I am what I own.

But in reality, I think I could live without most of my things. The photographs could fall apart but I would still have the memories of when they were taken. The books have been read. The movies could be rented. I don't need rings and earrings and make up and stuffed animals to survive. And really, I would still exist, my personality would remain intact, without creating something tangible out of it. Sometimes I get scared that I'm going to disappear, and I convince myself that my things ground me ... keep me actual. As though someone could walk into my room and acertain that someone does, in fact, live and breathe and love and feel and exist here.

What am I getting at, exactly? Firstly, that I've become, or maybe have always been, dependant on what I own. Materialistic, to a certain extent, although not in the label-whore, big screen TV kind of way. I haven't had much money this month, so I haven't really been buying anything - no mascara, no new movies, no spring clothes, no books to read or picture frames or boxes to store things in. It's been refreshing, not to feel the need to own anything else. Or, well - not to give in to the urge to own anything else. I've realized that I could cut my wardrobe into 1/4 and still survive. All that is really important to me in my life, REALLY important, could fit into a small box.
My computer. My high school grad ring. My framed picture of me and Steve. My glasses. The necklace my dad gave me when I gave my valedictorian speech. My diaries. My stuffed monkey. Everything else is sort of extra.

When I raise kids, I can hopefully raise them to value experiences more than they value belongings. I don't want them to have 15 rooms full of toys, or closets full of clothes that they grow out of before they wear. I hope that I can learn, so that I can teach them, to give to others, and to define your personality by how you treat other people, rather than what you own. It's something that I've been working on, and slowly but surely am getting better at.

Sorry about the rambling - lot on my mind
(and for those of you left wondering, I *did* get in to Teacher's College at U of T, so you can all give up your hopes of me becoming a travelling drama hobo)

Take Me Out To The Ball Game

Dear God,
I really want to be a teacher. I know I haven't always been the best student, I promise everything will change if I get just ONE more chance. If you let me get into U of T, I promise that I will never wait until the absolute LAST night before an assignment is due to start it. I will not skip class for any of the following reasons: my bed is warm. My alarm clock is too far away from my bed to bother to set it for the morning. I was up late looking at dogs on the internet. My housemate wants to play MarioKart. My jeans aren't clean enough to wear out. I will also not tell teachers I was feeling sick, when in fact I was too lazy and comfy to get out of bed. Thank you cordially for your time and attention. Bri Johnson.

It's 5:30 in the morning and I can't sleep: teacher's college results are posted online in a mere 2.5 hours, and I would rest much easier knowing that I had a future. So I've been knitting, cutting pictures out of magazines, writing emails to high school friends, and now -well, posting pictures on my blog. The world moves so slowly at this time of day, where it's not really still night, but not quite morning.

Anyway - on to my original task. Tonight was a lot of fun. Along with my boyfriend and two fine gentlemen that we know (okay, okay - Andy and Kevin), I went to the home opener of the Toronto Blue Jays tonight at the Rogers Centre. Instead of talking about it - because even though I love going to baseball games, I don't really know enough about the players or the sport to comment- I'll just post my pictures from the night and let them speak for themselves. Basically we've got a bunch of people playing baseball, and a goofy pic of me and Andy taken in the 6th inning. Enjoy!

Queen's Doesn't Want Me for a Sunbeam

Today, in my opinion, was D-Day: letters of admission and rejection were sent out from ontario universities for their B.Ed programs, and I was one of the 14,000 people awaiting a big fat package signalling my success. Instead, when I ran around the front of the house to the mailbox, all that was waiting for me was a single, solitary, small envelope from the Faculty of Education at Queen's.

Dear Miss Johnson,
I am writing in connection with your application for admission to the Faculty of Education at Queen's University to inform you, with regret, that it is not possible to offer you a place at the present time... blah, blah, blah, blah.

Hmmm. I'm not even sure if Queen's would have been my first choice, but it would have been nice to know that my Alma Mater (where I graduated with f'ing honours) had a place for me in their hearts and their programs should I ever choose to return. It's the sort of thing that I can't pretend to understand, so I'm not going to think about it. Focus now shifts to the University of Toronto - essentially my last hope. If I don't get in there, I'm not exactly sure what I'm going to do with my life, but I certainly won't be happy about it.

The s*** hits the fan tomorrow morning at 8:30, when U of T posts their results online. Stay tuned, and please - keep your fingers and toes crossed for me. For the first time, I'm a little bit scared.

This Place in Time

I guess I'm sorry for the lack of meaningful content here lately. I mean, I AM sorry, but I guess it hasn't been too meaningful. Truth be told, I haven't really been thinking lately, if that makes any sense at all to you. In fact, I haven't really be doing much of anything. It hasn't been that bad. I sleep in (working nights is an great way to excuse sleeping until noon every day), I read my emails. Sometimes I watch TV. I do laundry, and most nights, I go to work at the restaurant. While at work, I greet people, call reservations and basically stand around in my black skirt and black tank top, looking pretty.

It's been a really rough month. I've been going to the dentist 2 or 3 times a weeks and it's reached the point that when I'm not working or otherwise engaged in something I've committed myself to, I'm sleeping off the pain in my teeth. I hurt, I take drugs, I sleep. I don't even know if I'm tired anymore - it often just seems like a good way to pass the time before I can go to the dentist again. It's been a month since he started working on my teeth and I possibly only have 1 root canal to go before I'm officially done. I'm not sure; my dentist called me on my CELL phone today to tell me that my pain may be the cause of "nerve damage", but said "don't get scared - we'll just talk about it on Monday". This warrants a cell phone call? It must not be very fun to be a dentist. I'm not particularly found of mouths, and after what MY teeth have put me through lately (1300.00 of work in 3 weeks!) I'm not fond of them either.

So the point, or the lack of a point, is this: I've merely been existing. I haven't felt especially inspired or completely depressed. My emotions have been lackluster at best. All of my relationships (my life in general, really) have been uneventful. I haven't felt motivated or compelled to do anything, much less write about it. I hope that the start of a new month helps me to wake up. I really need something to be excited about right now.

While I was sleeping (literally), Toronto itself sidestepped into pseudo-spring; 5 glorious weeks where the weather peaks in the mid teens during the day, but the ground remains barren, the trees leafless, and garbage is all over the streets after being covered in snow for 3 months. It's not pretty, but it's reviving and refreshing. It's not sandal weather, but my cheeks don't hurt from the biting wind anymore, and I've retired my green ski jacket to the back of the laundry room. This is something, at least. It's nice to know that from here on in, the world is going to get a little warmer and a little greener every day. It always gives me something to look forward to when I wake up in the morning. And for someone who has simply been existing, this is ... well, like I said - it's something.