The weather in Toronto has slowly been getting a little nicer and nicer....and with everyday that the thermometer creeps towards the positives, the entire city lets out a little sigh of relief that maybe Spring really is just around the corner! Unlike other cities where it's warm (or warmer) year round, Torontonians like myself are so used to the dull, dreary days of winter that we're all officially insane when Spring fever hits! It hits us. And it hits us hard. I think this may be the only city in the world where you can see people on the streets wearing flip flops and winter boots on the same day. We experienced a day where the warmth hit the double digits a little while ago and, despite being only ten degrees, it was probably the busiest clubbing night I've seen in a while and throngs of girls (your truly included) headed to the clubs in what I would normally wear in the summer. See? Officially insane when Spring fever hits.
The winters here being brutal as they are (this is The Great White North after all, cosmopolitan as we are) put even the cheeriest of Canadians into a bit of a bind and causes what I like to call "Toronto-hate Syndrome". Oh, we've all been affected by it at one time or another. You know the feeling...when you want to have a fabulous night out but the idea of putting on a slinky outfit and your most dangerous heels just seems -- well, dangerous, considering the icy streets and snowy mounds you'll have to navigate. The cramp on your night leads to a breathy sigh of "I hate Toronto!" and thus the syndrome begins. It's a snowball effect from then on in, where every weather-related disaster, no matter how small in scale, leads to a full-on case of hatred for our at-time geographically impaired city. The scene gets stale fast during the winter months partially because even the most persistent of clubbing troopers find it hard to make it out there when it's twenty five below and blustering winds ruin even the most coiffed hair-dos and also because everything just seems a little monotonous when given a bleak gray scene as a backdrop.
Well my darling Torontonians who are still in the city...Snap out of it! (For all of you who jetted out of here, I'm shooting you a slight evil eye. But only because I'm jealous. And because you suck.) I love our little city and the credit it deserves is usually taken away by 1) either New York envy (we really can't help that it's so close.) 2) the winter blues. Since NYC isn't going anywhere without the appearance of either King Kong or Godzilla, I think it's safe to say the winter blues are something we can easily all conquer. Luckily the worst of it is over and with March only a couple days away, Spring's green grasses and dewy air are truly just around the corner. Nothing spreads happiness faster than a little sunshine and I'm looking forward to the epidemic beginning as soon as the first rays hit the ground. As for the dry spell clubbing-wise; it's only one if we let it be one! I don't know about all of you, but I'm the type of person who will have a good night out as long as I'm surrounded by friends (and a couple bottles..come on now) so a night where we all mission it out, albeit in sexy little outfits under our puffy down-filled coats is definitely worth it. And, if you truly want to show everyone what we Canadians are made of, you'll find your way out in a sexy little outfit and that's about it. Blame it on Spring fever. But we're all about ready to be a little insane once it hits.
x
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Sunday, February 13, 2011
An OMFG Valentine
I want to hate Valentine's Day. I really do. I want to cringe at every love song I hear, roll my eyes at couples who engage in inappropriate PDA and suppress an urge to gag whenever I pass a florist -- and considering the year I've had, I have every reason to despise the holiday....but I just can't seem to shake my love for all things romantic. Oh yes, the hopeless romantic is an old adage becoming seemingly less and less relevant in today's modern world, but it still holds true for me and is also (inconveniently to say the least) a pretty accurate description of my character as well. Let me add that my hopeless romanticness kicks in with the presence of love...otherwise I'm prone to all sorts of less-than-romantic behaviour like I'm sure all of us single and in our twenties are...but that's a whole other blogpost in itself!
Another reason I should hate Cupid's day is because way back when, I worked for Hallmark when I was in high school, and let me tell you, if working at a card store doesn't put you off holidays, nothing will. Stuffed bears that light up and sing you My Girl, anthropomorphized roses that light up and sing you I'll Be...pretty much any and all remotely love-related items were made to light up and sing, Hallmark style, and were played over and over again by those browsing...and I still don't hate the day! I blame my unending belief in love on my lovely parents. They moved to Toronto together from Hong Kong in 1975 with not much more than each other, were married the same year quietly in the presence of a couple friends, and are still happily together 35 years later, all while building an amazing life of opportunities for themselves as well as myself, my sister and my brother. When you've been in the presence of something so strong your entire life, I guess it only makes sense as to why the standard I have for what love can do is raised so high.
I have never seen my parents fight to a level more than light bickering over logistics, or where to go for dinner. (My mom declares Chinese food for the win, always.) Otherwise, they are, and remain, a united front that runs like a well-oiled machine; efficiently, effectively and ridiculously in sync. In the midst of my own relationship turmoil, I once asked my mom if she ever went through rough phases with my dear old dad. "Never. Every day is happy. Always happy." To say I let out a sigh of exasperation would be putting it mildly. Yes, I admire my parents and what they have to no end, but am also aware that they have set the bar so exceptionally high that I know I'm pretty much screwed, love-wise, in my unrealistic expectations. Actually, if my mom wasn't in the car with me when I asked, I probably would have breathed out an "ohhhh fuck" or two. Or three.
Of course my parents grew up in a simpler, more traditional time compared to the jaded post-modern world we kids live in now, and perhaps that in itself is why their union appears to be a rarity in our twenties. A healthy dose of fresh naivety (of which, if my past experiences have taught me anything, I have an abundance of) never hurts. So tomorrow, all you darling bloggees, I hope you celebrate Valentine's Day with all the lovey-doveyness you can stand. Be romantic. Be illogical. Be hopeless if only for a day. Just don't buy your significant other anything that lights up and sings, or it'll probably be your last February 14th spent together.
And finally, a lovely little quote I read the other day: "It is well for the heart to be naive and the mind not to be,"
x
Another reason I should hate Cupid's day is because way back when, I worked for Hallmark when I was in high school, and let me tell you, if working at a card store doesn't put you off holidays, nothing will. Stuffed bears that light up and sing you My Girl, anthropomorphized roses that light up and sing you I'll Be...pretty much any and all remotely love-related items were made to light up and sing, Hallmark style, and were played over and over again by those browsing...and I still don't hate the day! I blame my unending belief in love on my lovely parents. They moved to Toronto together from Hong Kong in 1975 with not much more than each other, were married the same year quietly in the presence of a couple friends, and are still happily together 35 years later, all while building an amazing life of opportunities for themselves as well as myself, my sister and my brother. When you've been in the presence of something so strong your entire life, I guess it only makes sense as to why the standard I have for what love can do is raised so high.
I have never seen my parents fight to a level more than light bickering over logistics, or where to go for dinner. (My mom declares Chinese food for the win, always.) Otherwise, they are, and remain, a united front that runs like a well-oiled machine; efficiently, effectively and ridiculously in sync. In the midst of my own relationship turmoil, I once asked my mom if she ever went through rough phases with my dear old dad. "Never. Every day is happy. Always happy." To say I let out a sigh of exasperation would be putting it mildly. Yes, I admire my parents and what they have to no end, but am also aware that they have set the bar so exceptionally high that I know I'm pretty much screwed, love-wise, in my unrealistic expectations. Actually, if my mom wasn't in the car with me when I asked, I probably would have breathed out an "ohhhh fuck" or two. Or three.
Of course my parents grew up in a simpler, more traditional time compared to the jaded post-modern world we kids live in now, and perhaps that in itself is why their union appears to be a rarity in our twenties. A healthy dose of fresh naivety (of which, if my past experiences have taught me anything, I have an abundance of) never hurts. So tomorrow, all you darling bloggees, I hope you celebrate Valentine's Day with all the lovey-doveyness you can stand. Be romantic. Be illogical. Be hopeless if only for a day. Just don't buy your significant other anything that lights up and sings, or it'll probably be your last February 14th spent together.
And finally, a lovely little quote I read the other day: "It is well for the heart to be naive and the mind not to be,"
x
Sunday, February 6, 2011
OMFG -- It's Complicated.
As Valentine's Day approaches (or as my good friend Sean likes to call it "Singles Appreciation Day" aka S.A.D.), my other darling friend Jen noticed that Hallmark now has a section of cards dedicated to, as they put it, "Troubled Relationships". Pessimistic sounding? Maybe. But also pure genius in my opinion. Let's be honest, hardly any of us have relationships that are smooth as glass and glide along amazingly all the time. For those of you that do...please stop reading -- this blog is decidedly for the emotionally troubled and wearily jaded only! I doubt unceasingly cheerful people can appreciate my life debacles-turned-into-OMFG-moments half as much as my lovely troubled-ish-twenty-something target audience. And I'm sure it's all you slightly blasé yet still intensely emotive persons who would also agree with me in saying that Facebook needs to add another relationship status options to the likes of "Boy, is it ever fucking complicated".
When we were younger, interactions with the opposite sex were much simpler in the sense that you liked someone, and you were with them without too much else to consider. Now that we're in our twenties, i.e. the decade where we're expected to effortlessly establish the rest of our lives, there's a whole slew of considerations added to the equation, including career, travel, opportunities, partying and all the details these options entail. Yet, somehow within these often hectic and fleeting years, some of us manage to slow down enough to fall in love. And that's where the real complications start to set in..
Before I had even been in love, I would always chat with my girlfriends or hear of stories where situations sounded, to my naive ears at least, ridiculous. Situations where couples who were in love let other factors stand in the way of being together and often even dated other people. I always vowed in my head never to become one of those girls who had a super-complicated relationship with some boy in another city, or some boy she just couldn't be with at that moment in time. Fast forward a couple years and I'm in my own insanely complicated situation with nothing but sympathy with all those girls of stories past. It is only with experience -- painstaking heart-withering experience, that I've learned how logic takes a backseat to love in many cases and what we should do, and what would make the most sense to do is what we do last. In my head, I know personally that being in love means being with a person and letting all other factors play second to that, but being with some one who is simply not consumed by love in the same way allows for the situation to become, well, complicated.
There's a saying I read somewhere recently which was something to the tune of "What we remember will be how well we loved, how well we lost and how well we learned to let go." It's learning to let go which seems to be a hard feat to conquer at this age. Perhaps it's because now is when most of us experience our first loves, magically pristine in their vulnerability, or perhaps it's because we're not mature enough to see the benefits of the bigger picture. However you put it, learning to simply let go and move on is the epitome of a situation easier said than done.
I guess I was hoping all my moaning and whining about being in love at such an age would come to some sort of tidy conclusion on the topic, or at least be a cathartic release in a way, but as it turns out there are no clean-cut answers when it comes to love, unless your emotional capabilities resemble that of a robot. (And trust me when I say I've met some boys who have come damn near close.) Complicated relationships, long-distance relationships, and being in love with the unlovable are all far from ideal situations to be in. But, let's face it, we wouldn't be in them if we didn't think, somewhere deep down buried beneath our jaded souls that at the end of the day, love is kinda, sorta, maybe, just a teensy bit worth being in a "Troubled Relationship' for.
x
When we were younger, interactions with the opposite sex were much simpler in the sense that you liked someone, and you were with them without too much else to consider. Now that we're in our twenties, i.e. the decade where we're expected to effortlessly establish the rest of our lives, there's a whole slew of considerations added to the equation, including career, travel, opportunities, partying and all the details these options entail. Yet, somehow within these often hectic and fleeting years, some of us manage to slow down enough to fall in love. And that's where the real complications start to set in..
Before I had even been in love, I would always chat with my girlfriends or hear of stories where situations sounded, to my naive ears at least, ridiculous. Situations where couples who were in love let other factors stand in the way of being together and often even dated other people. I always vowed in my head never to become one of those girls who had a super-complicated relationship with some boy in another city, or some boy she just couldn't be with at that moment in time. Fast forward a couple years and I'm in my own insanely complicated situation with nothing but sympathy with all those girls of stories past. It is only with experience -- painstaking heart-withering experience, that I've learned how logic takes a backseat to love in many cases and what we should do, and what would make the most sense to do is what we do last. In my head, I know personally that being in love means being with a person and letting all other factors play second to that, but being with some one who is simply not consumed by love in the same way allows for the situation to become, well, complicated.
There's a saying I read somewhere recently which was something to the tune of "What we remember will be how well we loved, how well we lost and how well we learned to let go." It's learning to let go which seems to be a hard feat to conquer at this age. Perhaps it's because now is when most of us experience our first loves, magically pristine in their vulnerability, or perhaps it's because we're not mature enough to see the benefits of the bigger picture. However you put it, learning to simply let go and move on is the epitome of a situation easier said than done.
I guess I was hoping all my moaning and whining about being in love at such an age would come to some sort of tidy conclusion on the topic, or at least be a cathartic release in a way, but as it turns out there are no clean-cut answers when it comes to love, unless your emotional capabilities resemble that of a robot. (And trust me when I say I've met some boys who have come damn near close.) Complicated relationships, long-distance relationships, and being in love with the unlovable are all far from ideal situations to be in. But, let's face it, we wouldn't be in them if we didn't think, somewhere deep down buried beneath our jaded souls that at the end of the day, love is kinda, sorta, maybe, just a teensy bit worth being in a "Troubled Relationship' for.
x
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