OMFG - The Scariest Part of Your Twenties..

As my brother, the last of my siblings, moved out of our parents home this week, I came to the horrifying realization that this was it. My sister, myself and now my brother were all officially adults. Little birdies no more...we had flown the coop and entered the air sans safety net.

Okay, okay, I feel like throughout my twenties thus far I've had freakouts about becoming an adult at least on a bi-monthly basis. Bi-weekly is more like it. But there's something about all three of us being there that struck a particularly realistic chord. Perhaps the scariest realization about being an adult is that the only person you can count on is yourself. I mean this in the least desolate and dramatic way possible -- of course we all have good friends and family there to help us in a true bind but being self-sufficient is, in my humble opinion anyway, a sign of maturity.

The hardest lesson I've learned thus far in this precocious decade? To bank on yourself. And mean it. With a job that has all the security of iCloud (read: none) and an affinity for a life with ample flexibility and wonder, my stability levels are entirely dependent on one thing: me, myself and I.

Promoting is one of those jobs that should come with a slogan ripped right from MTV Diary Of.. "You think you know but you have no idea." I chuckle at those who think all it requires is showing up for a few hours a couple times a week to drink vodka and bop around in the booth. This lovely condo and YSL heels didn't come from bopping. What started out as shits and giggles working for my former business partner as essentially a party girl turned into a quick realization of what could be made here and thus the Risk pieces on the King West board that is my life started to form. That was four years ago. And even today, while established on the scene, it is still a constant hustle and grind to stay relevant and in demand.

How hard you grind is directly correlated to how well things go. An obvious statement? Yes. But one that only turns into a stable means when you know you have what it takes. This is applicable to all careers whether it be the perpetual hustling path that I chose to take or more conventional routes I know many of my friends to be on. I've learned to not freak out as much knowing that I can depend on myself even though my only security system is my laptop, phone, and whatever I choose to do with them. Four years of ups and downs and lessons and learning and perspective and yes, even more freakouts, have led to finally being able to bank on myself. Being my own security system? I'll take that over iCloud any day.

Surely there will be plenty of dips and dives while we're out here flying but having that added twenty-something faith in yourself sure does make the ride less turbulent. Up, up and away dear readers! x 

OMFG - Spring Cleaning.

After an almost alarmingly mild winter (global warming much?), the first truly warm days of Spring have hit my dear city of Toronto. And, as with every year, that means a bit of spring cleaning for me. Mainly my closets which tend to overflow with accumulated goods over the year, and sadly the years past. After removing three garbage bags worth of clothing from my double closets, two things were apparent to me: 1) I need to stop buying ugly leopard print shirts and dresses in an attempt to satisfy my hunt for the perfect animal print outfit (feminine, chiffon and preferably Cavalli) and 2) my closets are so much better when following Thoreau's famous words: simplify, simplify.


Well, what's good for my closet is good for life. Clutter, tangible and otherwise is just not conducive to anything. Granted, your twenties is a time of trial and error -- as in figuring out your likes and dislikes when it comes to style, people and overall lifestyle. Fashionably speaking, I've recently come to the conclusion that I just don't care for, or particularly like anything super trendy and would rather invest in a few classic pieces from say, Holts, rather than twenty trendy items from H&M. (I also just can't wrap my head around wearing anything I find remotely silly. This encompasses the entire hipster trend at the moment of crop tops, floral high pants, etc. Maybe I'm just not cool enough.) With the style mantra of feminine, elegant and timeless in mind, I easily rid of all the frivolous and girly pieces I'd long outgrown.

While tossing some ugly jeans is easy enough (I had a light pair that were bedazzled. I kid you not.), it's the non-tangible clutter in our lives that's a little harder to rid of. Deciding what even counts as unnecessary in your life can be a challenge; I know I still have trouble differentiating between what's glamorous and fun and what's detrimental to me. With so many ups and downs being inevitable, keeping one rule in mind seems to be the trick: does this make me happy long term? That last word is key. Instant gratification is easy as pie...it's long term gratification that defines maturity.

Negative influences such as (for me anyway) overly dramatic "friends", selfishness and perhaps the most detrimental of them all, cheesecake, at the end of the day aren't paths to my long term happiness. And, for the most part I've been able to kick them to the curb (except for cheesecake. But I'm working on it...kind of.) These past few warm days have coincided with some wake-up calls in my life lately and what better time of year than nature's rebirth to make some improvements! Nothing crazy -- although my fitness kick made my dad ask me in all seriousness "Are you kidding?" when I said I was going for a run -- but rather a newly conscious way of making decisions. Simply being aware of what impacts us and what doesn't makes a world of a difference. For me this means not letting silly things affect me for the worse, a renewed focus on my writing and loved ones, and my health. A total Spring cleaning I need not: just tweaking and fine-tuning. Bring on the warmer weather.

x

OMFG - Academy Award Inspired

It's Sunday evening and after watching the Oscars, I'm feeling inspired to write. The show was classic, timeless and elegant: all ideals I try to emulate in my life. (And, much like the Oscars, I have my slip up moments; Angelina's right leg, I'm looking at you.) What struck me most about the Academy Awards this year were all the truly heartfelt acceptance speeches. Not one was typical and expected, but instead each was emotional and graceful. It seemed less about the achievement and more about the relationships that brought each person to that moment Consider me smitten.

Unless you're made of stone or a robot (Sure I'm kidding, but I've met many people who come pretty darn close) it was hard not to get choked up during at least one moment. (Octavia Spencer with a win that the whole crowd was happy for was especially poignant) Meryl said it best when she accepted her Best Actress Oscar thanking not her agent and manager, but all her friends she's made throughout the duration of her lengthy career. Well that's just the best endorsement for maintaining friendships that I've ever heard!

I went out five times this week which honestly isn't that unusual for me. Granted I work promoting so three of those nights were in my own business interests, but I wouldn't do it unless I loved it. And I do. There is nothing that energizes me more than going out, having ridiculously good times with my friends and meeting new people. Friends of friends, others who work in the industry, and like-minded people in general all make for networking connections, and some times even evolve into great friendships. Whoever said you can't meet good people at clubs has never been out in Toronto.

I've made more friends from going out than I have from school, modeling and every other significant part of my life combined. And I'm not just talking about partying acquaintances (although there has been no shortage of those) but friends who I see daytime, and actually know well! For every ten duds I meet who have nothing to contribute to life, there's the quality person I meet who is driven, interesting and engaging. I find I have so much in common with my fellow club-goers, usually because of our shared enthusiasm for good times and making the most of life in general. Rarely do I connect closely with people who stay in every night...call it a difference in what you want to get out of life, but whether I'm single, in a relationship, and everything in between, having an overly-active social life in glam venues is a constant. (And glam is key here...it's not like I'm hanging out at Republic five times a week. Let us all collectively shudder at the thought.)

Life, for me at least, is knowing where you want to go and who you want to go there with. At twenty four, I may be still figuring out where I want to go, but I definitely know who I want to be with. My family. My friends. My love. That first is decided, the second I choose and third is still up in the air. Another thing about the second? There's always room for more. Here's to an inspiring Academy Awards and acknowledging all the people we connect with on our way to greatness...x

OMFG - The Moody Blues

Have you ever had one of those days where you just don't want to get out of bed? Either it's because you're tired from a busy work week, feeling plain lazy or, let's face it -- are probably mildly to severely hungover based on the events of the night before. We've all had those days, especially when fluffy duvet covers, silky pillows and freshly laundered sheets are involved. Now how about one of those days where you just can't get out of bed? It's not because you're physically unable too from fatigue or are so hungover the task of walking seems impossible, but rather because it seems pointless, hopeless, or meaningless. Your bed is no longer a throne of dreams and comfort but a sluggish welt in your room that is pulling you into masses of heavy blankets instead of being able to breathe fresh air. If you've ever felt the latter, even to a small degree, then you're probably familiar with some form of mild depression.

This isn't a PSA about the signs and treatments for such a disease, but rather a simple post about how we, as twenty-somethings, are prone to experiencing symptoms of it in our own unique way. I will admit that I've experienced bouts of panic, anxiety and the blues throughout my years. Yes, I'm a highly functioning social person who is, for the most part, a happy person, but also a highly emotional and complicated being who doesn't always have ration and logic. My hypersensitivity leaves it so that I am often bothered by things that shouldn't bother me, and I am at times left to wonder why everyone else seems so fine with things that I just can't seem to get past. I've had days where I feel so tired and weighed down for no reason at all, cannot stop crying, and feel useless. While such episodes are usually spurred by emotional reactions to relationship issues and whatnot, they were occurring enough that I've looked into therapy several times. The first time I never got around to it, and the second time the therapist told me at our first visit that "it doesn't really seem like you need to be in therapy." Um, excuse me? Reassuring I suppose in some ways, but also frustrating in that I felt not depressed enough that I could be diagnosed and treated, but affected enough that it made life difficult a lot of the time.

Being in your twenties is hard. Wonderful in a sense that yes, we are relatively carefree (not many of us have kids to worry about yet, broken hips and other health issues that hit later on and are young enough to still be able to party until 5am and be up for work at 9), and the world is ours for the taking, but hard nonetheless. It's when we're supposed to figure out our entire lives career-wise, romantically, and financially all the while figuring out just who we are. It is the most uncertain decade in every which way for us and this can lead to everything that I know I've personally gone through.

Let's not take this too lightly. If you're sitting in bed eating a tub of ice cream and crying to your girlfriends on the phone about another failed relationship, you're not depressed. If you're down on yourself and cancel on a bro's night because you didn't get that promotion you thought you had in the bag at work, you're not depressed. And if you're worried that your weight is up 3 pounds and that's why that other chick landed that magazine cover and not you, you're not depressed. Yes, being in our twenties has trials and tribulations like all decades, but it's only if they affect you deep down, in a sense that they're issues ice cream and a night in can't solve...well that's when you should perhaps seek help. If they affect you to a point that you feel you can't function on a day to day level, that's when a little warning buzzer should be ringing in your head.

What seems to be a good system, for me at least, is recognizing when a blue episode is on its way. I know what my warning signs are, and when I see one or two pop up, I become proactive in reversing them. Whether it be through talking to a loved one, becoming physically active or keeping busy, it all helps to hopefully avoid the downfall all together. Acknowledging the things that upset you in life and how they affect you is a crucial way to making sure such factors don't reoccur.

Mental issues are hard to acknowledge and at times even harder to reach out and get help for. Since there are no physical symptoms, the severity of such issues are murky waters. Nothing is more frustrating than trying to convince some one of your feelings and being dismissed as simply "moody". What I do know is that the people who tell you to simply "buck up" or that "it's just a phase and you'll get over it" probably haven't experienced it themselves. I trust my instinct like no other and know when I'm feeling something, I'm feeling it and no amount of partying, or other distractions will take my mind off of it. (Although partying sure does help some times...) So my point of this somewhat somber post is, my dear blogees, that the moody blues have a tendency to hit even the best and brightest of us in our twenties. Dealing with it, no matter how mild or severe is up to you. Staying happy and being well sure beat gray skies and tears, now doesn't it?
x

For references and where to find help:
Depression Meetings
Counseling Services
Recognizing Symptoms

OMFG -- Television with a Heart..

As September lazily turns from a humid summer into a cool fall, television follows suit as the tide turns from reruns to the premieres of all the shows we missed during the summer. I don't know about you guys, but TV watching for me has turned from catching the latest episode of my favorite series every week to holing up in my room hermit-style every once in a while and watching an entire season of a series start to finish on my computer. This may or may not include cuddling with chips, cupcakes and a variety of other munchie foods while in bed. Technology at it's finest, no? I have pretty mainstream taste: everything from the standard chick fare like Gossip Girl (for the clothes and Chuck Bass, strictly) to standard boy fare like Entourage (hoping they don't screw up the movie..) and everything in between. I've noticed over the past few seasons, the number of shows I've been addicted to has upped in numbers...and it's for one lovely little reason: the return of good old fashioned heart to television.

Don't roll your eyes at me now...if you're reading this and don't value all matters dealing with the heart, then you, my darling, have wandered onto the wrong blog. I'm talking about warm fuzzies, gooey sentimentalism, or "tender" moments as my sister calls them, all making their way back into prime-time popular shows. Much of this can be attributed to the comeback of the sitcom. After Friends ended and Seinfeld went off air, there was a loll where similar shows were coming on, and failing fast. It's not that Friends lacked heart, and as a big fan of the show I wouldn't of changed a thing, but it was more about quick laughs and romance than anything else. And Seinfeld was a show famously about nothing. The typical mid-90's sitcom situation of a group of single people living in a city has made way for different types of plots; families, and the search for love, not just fun on the singles scene.

My favorite of the bunch, and a favorite of critics and fans alike it seems is Modern Family. Hysterically funny, just the right mount of awkward and heartwarming at the appropriate times, it's sweet while still being hilarious and of course, modern. It also helps that Manny is my soul mate. Yes, the 11 year old son of Jay and Gloria not only write poems for girls he likes, reads Hemingway and wears meticulously coordinated outfits, but also turns his nose down on all activities that should be age-appropriate for a fifth grader. A hopeless romantic who hasn't even reached middle school? No wonder why I love this show! A close second is the character of Phil, who is endearingly dorky at its best. Because the show is just that good, I will overlook the fact that for the new season they've replaced the adorable Asian baby Lily with an obviously mixed-race child who is neither cute, nor funny. I mean come on, we can all tell she's half white. For a show that's so against tradition in a lot of ways, it's slightly insulting for the creators to think no one would notice.

Even when a show is about a group of singles living in the city, the warm undertones are what make me happy to see what they're up to. I've come to love How I Met Your Mother; a show where we follow Ted and his group of friends as we retells the story to his kids of how he met their mother. I mean, there's family love and tenderness written right into the title! It allows all the conquests he embarks seem not just for sport, but part of a grand journey where, if they had not occurred, he wouldn't ultimately meet his true love. It's a singles show for the romantics out there, and one where we follow along with our own tumultuous love lives knowing every fight, heartbreak and stupid mistake happens for a reason. (Even if you're not as on board the sappy bandwagon as I am, HIMYM is worth watching for Neil Patrick Harris alone in all his sociopath, lady-killing, musical glory.)

The kinder, gentler, but no less funny sitcom is prevailing and love addicts like yours truly are binging on all the gooey television moments we can get. Mind you, this is prime time, and all the edgy stuff is still available on cable (I'm just getting hooked on Damages). But the dominance of heartwarming ideals in mainstream television makes for a nice sentiment: that collectively, it's what audiences are seeking out. And what a lovey feeling it is to know we all may be all the same page after all....well, according to Nelson's ratings at least. Sit back, watch, love and enjoy!
x

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