The Rabbit and The Fox

What follows is the most honest piece of writing I produced in all my years of elementary school. This book, written in second grade, follows my first grade plagiarism of P.D. Eastman's "Are You My Mother?", cleverly disguised under the title, "The Egg". Closely following this, is a book entitled, "The Cat and the Dog", which is the piece of work I am perhaps most ashamed of, and this is closely followed by a book of poetry featuring a poem called, "Balls". 

I believe that this story says a lot about who I am and shows my potential as a writer, an artist and as a human being.

Without further ado, I give you, "The Rabbit and The Fox".

 THE END.

There, that's all. I hope you liked it.

FOREVER LAZY COMMERCIAL

This is by far the weirdest infomercial I've seen in a long time. Although I'm glad to see that I can wear the Forever Lazy while I hang out in the parking lot with my friends.

It's That Time of the Year...

It's the end of November already and I cannot believe how time has flown! Recently I spoke with some of my American friends about the holidays and how, with their Thanksgiving approaching this week, they are still in the thick of their turkey and leaves decorating schemes. I guess once Thanksgiving day is over stores can put up their Christmas trees, or whatever they're allowed to put up these days. A holiday cardboard box. A holiday stick. Anyway, in Canada, once Halloween is over, Christmas has begun. There is no in-between holiday, we get right to the point. Christmas is coming and we're freakin' excited about it.

Although it has been a freezing day, after work I went for a run around my neighborhood. Dressed warm with my new reflective jacket I jogged up and down the darkened streets.

I was enjoying the decorated houses of the eager beavers who could not wait to put up their twinkly lights. Reindeer! YAY! Santa! YAY! Bloody handprint on the window! Umm. Either we have a very sloppy serial killer on the loose or not everyone has made the transition over to Christmas. I saw pumpkins, skeletons, all intermingled with the pretty joys of flashing lights and stars. I even saw a black cat who obviously did not receive the memo that he should be packed away in storage by now.

This is the problem for us Canadians. It's far to late for turkeys, about 22 days late for Halloween...and maybe 9 days too early for Christmas. It leaves us with what I would like to call "Nightmare Before Christmas Syndrome" or NBCS. Its starts looking like a freakish mess of a holiday where Santy Claws is going to come deliver man-eating jack-in-the-boxes.

And I do not know what this is about...

If only I had gotten to that serial killer before he took the life of this oversized stuffed parrot. December will be here soon enough to save us from this atrocity.

Revelation from the Movies

Okay, Wednesday...we're going to be okay, folks.

On Saturday I went to the movies. Alone. Some people get this and some people don't, but unless I can be sure that my movie-watching companion is going to sit quietly and watch the movie, I'd rather go alone. When some friends recently suggested a Lord of the Rings marathon, I said no. Not everyone seems to understand that the LOTR films are not talking movies. Don't even get my started on "no eating movies". If someone is laughing while Frodo is leaving for the Grey Havens, there will be blood.

Speaking of blood. Saturday. I went to the movies. Just the pizza I smuggled into my purse and I. We went to go see Drive...finally! I was relieved it was still in theatres because I've been dying to see it since TIFF in September. And...it was awesome! Ryan Gosling is great. Really. I love him. And he is not a good person in this movie either. He hurts people pretty severely. Note: This film is not for those with weak stomachs.

After watching this movie I was feeling a variety of emotions:

1. Disappointment: Ryan and I would probably never live happily ever after.
2. Joy/Excitement: The movie was throughly enjoyable.
3. Angstment/Dispair: Wait a second...I'm an actress, why the heck am I not acting in awesome movies like this?!?! I'M A RECEPTIONIST!!!!!!!! (Not that there's anything wrong with that.)

I left the theatre and walked for a very long time. I walked across a bridge with a Crisis Hotline number posted at the opening. I called and we chatted for a while.

"You're a receptionist?!" they said.

"I KNOW!" I said. "But I have the heart of an actress. And one day I want to be in a movie where I stab someone in the chest with a shower curtain rod!"

And from that moment I had new drive (woah, I didn't even try), and once again I am determined to always pretend to be someone else. You know why? Because not everyone is an actress. If they were, they would tell their own stories by acting them out on camera. Since this is not the case...there are those who get paid to act like other people and recreate their life. For the most part I am one who does not get paid to act like other people, but I hope to be paid for this in the future.

A Cat Followed Me Home

i found a cat on my porch today.

he followed me home i guess.

and as soon as i saw this cat i loved him.

(at this point, i'm sure my mother reading this is getting pretty nervous)

i don't even like cats-

with some exceptions.

but i had been thinking yesterday about how i wanted a pet.

(at this point my mother would say, you have a pet, he lives with your dad and i.)

and i thought, my goodness, this cat has been sent by God to be my pet.

i played with him for a while and then went inside, leaving him there.

scat. i said. because there's not really another occasion to use this word...other than when you're talking about singing like a- ...i can't even think of a comparison, but thinking about all this buh, bi, bop, bopidoo, bop bop...is driving me crazy.

i told the cat, he better go ahead and leave, because it would take some self control for me not to take him in as my own.

like in tarzan.

i went inside, took care of some business, though i couldn't help but go back and look out the front door a few minutes later.

the cat was still there.

he needed me.

he loved me.

and i loved him.

(mom: oh brother...)

i went back outside and played with him some more.

then i hear someone call over to me.

it's my neighbour, a couple houses down.

"oh you're playing with Sela!"

beat.

'this is YOUR cat???????'

"yes, i have three."

beat.

(he has three)

'oh. 

ok.

he's pretty.'

and you know he still tried to follow me into my house?

disappointment was followed by relief as i thought about all the hair that would be on my clothes and the filthy litter box i would have to clean out.

that cat already had a home.

and i don't really like cats anyway.

i can't believe you ate that!

Remember when you used to do something gross to a piece of candy, like rub it on the ground, and then offer it to someone? Usually this was done in groups, because it's funnier when other people are in on the joke. Then you'd watch and be like, "Ohh! I can't believe you ate that!!!" Right?

I was thinking about this today at work while I sat at my desk, in my lady bug costume, folding invoices and eating Hershey bars (little ones). Maybe I was thinking about my childhood because my mother had made this lady bug costume for me when I was five years old. I remember when I started to think that any time a classmate offered me something delicious, it must have been tampered with. Hey want a cookie? What did you do to it? was usually the response. Fool me once, shame on me. Shame me twice...shame on...oh wait... But, could you imagine doing that as an adult? Hey want a donut? What did you do to it? I swished it around in the toilet and then painstakingly dried it for a couple hours on a paper towel. We would only get more creative with time, but hopefully we've also matured enough not to feed our friends toilet donuts.

Just sayin'.

Hope you enjoyed Halloween and some adult-friendly candy.

My 1 Year Anniversary

i'm contemplating writing a story.

I have anxiety in the pit of my gut. And my heart is fluttering a bit...but I think that's more my afternoon coffee. I'm considering taking part in National Novel Writing Month (http://www.nanowrimo.org/), which happens throughout November, and would have me committed to writing a novel in a month. A novel. In a month. This is no small feat. And I'm pretty nervous to commit to something like this. (Ha.) Because I feel like there is a high risk of failure involved. Well, maybe not failure...but high risk of writing something really terrible! Maybe this is why writers have pseudonyms...so they can cover their butts if their book sucks. I don't know how to write a story! I just write about myself. (That sounds awful...but let's be real.) I guess I could do an autobiographical tale.

When I was little I loved to write stories...I should scan one and post it up here. My favourite follows the close, but unlikely, friendship of a rabbit and a fox. They are great friends. Until the end, when my last line states, "And then the fox ate the rabbit." Perhaps even better is reading the 'comments' section where my teacher and parents all express their shock at my choice of ending. There's a story-teller in me somewhere. With an ending like that, how can there not be?!

I'm reading this book by Stephen King, "On Writing", and he says as a writer you need to have writing goals for how much you want to write each day...and you need a room with a door, to lock yourself in until you've reached your daily goal. I share a room. So I'm not sure how this is going to work. Maybe I can make a writing studio out of a giant cardboard box and go sit in there for my writing time. Maybe I can write a novel about a girl who lives in a cardboard box. Meh, I'll figure it out. Hey, I'll let you know.

Cheers,
-Katinka Tattersall

Laura Gets a Hair Cut

I go get my hair trimmed yesterday. Trimmed. The stylist asks me what I want done. A trim, I say. Make it look nice. He starts giving me all these other options. No, I say. A trim, thank you. 

Hair dressers always assume that you want a dramatic change. I've had some dramatic changes and you know what they come with? Dramatic regrets. It's like most hair dressers are waiting for some eccentricity to walk through their door and ask for half their head to be shaved and the rest to be cornrowed and dyed teal. "Yesss! Yesss!" they cackle. Maybe I want to look just about the same as when I entered the salon, rather than having to later face my aghast friends as they chime in, wowwwww...........you chaaaanged your hairrrrrrr.......What do you think? When left with nothing positive to say it's reasonable to ask the victim what they think of their corrupt mess. It's not as forthright, but far more appropriate than other things I have swimming around in my head.

When I go to get my hair done, sometimes I feel like I'm attending a Roast Party for my hair. Your hair is damaged! It's dull! Drab! Have you thought of color? Highlights? Your hair is so dry that-

Literally, I go to the hair dresser and for the first few minutes they point out everything wrong with my hair. Sometimes they'll even take the condensed version and spread it out over the entire 45 minutes. I think they want me to feel so awful about myself that I'll crumble at their mercy and beg them to give me highlights. Well, I don't think so. I have become very defensive about my hair ever since the one time I had it highlighted. It was the result of a spa package I was gifted. The highlights were free! Again, that would be like kicking Freebie Man in the face. So I stressed, "Sun-kissed! No really, like the sun itself has lightly kissed my hair." I came out looking like Pepe le Pew. I vowed to leave my hair natural until I go grey, when I will become a blond like the rest of the women over 50.

One of my favourite things about getting a hair cut, is that they take that half hour to style my hair. That half hour I never take. And since there is so much product holding it all together, it lasts at least a couple days. Most people don't notice I even had a haircut. Just as it should be.

Canadian Thanksgiving! Eat More Lamb!

http://www.crewsnest.vispa.com/tgivingcanadatop.jpg

This past weekend was Canadian Thanksgiving, which is like American Thanksgiving, but I don't think it's about stealing land from Native Americans. And if it was, we would probably be more polite.

Canadians still eat most of the same food that Americans do, except we don't have that fizzy apple cider, or green bean casserole, or the jello that is only allowed to be eaten with dinner one day a year. My family added lamb to our repertoire this year, I guess because we didn't have enough food. I think we could have fed 20 people. Or 13 Marijans & Co.. There was so much food, in fact, that halfway through dinner my cousin leans over to me and asks if my mom made [the famous] sweet potato casserole. She had. It was still in the freezer. My mom had been so proactive in making it a week in advance that she forgot about it. But my mum is clever, and on tossing the casserole in the oven she dubbed the dish "Sweet Potato Crisp". And there was much rejoicing. We added it to our dessert course, which almost immediately followed our dinner course.

Ever since I can remember, our family has had eating competitions. Not gross, Man vs. Food, challenges, more slow and steady eating challenges. And often I won. I took pride in this...until I turned 19 and learned that gorging yourself on ice cream cake has its consequences. This Thanksgiving was Challenge: Lamb Chops. The cousin was dethroned in this event by the sister's BF...the cousin who consistently fills his plate almost entirely with meat. 

My kind-hearted mother bought some Tupperware containers so that my sister and I could bring some leftovers home the next day, but there were two problems. First, we had eaten most of the food so there wasn't much to bring home. Second, after one meal of leftovers the thought of ever eating a turkey dinner again made me want to hurl.

I was determined to eat nothing but soup and salad all week so that I would undo the damage that this weekend had caused. That went well until today. There was a dessert potluck at work, because apparently we hadn't eaten enough on the weekend (I didn't even mention that I had gone to the Cheesecake Factory the night before Thanksgiving dinner. Enough said.). I remember reading the headline, a while back, to an article entitled, "Is Your Job Making You Fat?". And while I was eating brownies and shortbread-wrapped Toblerone bar, I reflected on this article. I don't remember what it said, but I don't think it matters. I thought, "Yes, my job is making me fat." And so are holidays.

I guess that's why there are only a few in a year. Hopefully they balance out in the end. I'm eating salad for dinner.

Old Jewish Woman!

I know you're wondering if I ever got my free McDonald's McSpresso beverage. I predicted I would forget to redeem said coupon, and although this is not the case, it is not too far from the truth.

After work I go to the McDonald's by my train stop, which is filled with the most shady people I have ever seen in my neighbourhood. Go figure. And someone STEALS my coupon! No, that didn't happen. Could you imagine? No, no, no, the problem was that this particular McDonald's had no McCafe. No, McKidding! I then go home to get ready for my triple-threat - dancing, singing and Cirque du Soleil - audition and hope that there might be a McDonald's in the area. Why is it that the golden arches are everywhere until you despretely want one to be there? My coupon did expire. You just can't halt time. I left my audition that night after midnight, and one of my first thoughts after hiting the fridgid air was, "It's cold!", followed shortly by, "Ahhhh...my cooooooooouuupon...".

My audition was LONG! Almost five hours. Lots of waiting. Lots of uni kids. Lots of uni kids asking me what I was doing at their school. Although the experience began in horror as the waiting area sounded like a club and smelled of beer (Hello! I am an ac-tor from New York!), on entering the audition rooms the evening took a turn for the better. I sang, I danced (and actually somewhat followed choreography), and of course, acted. I had a moment during the monologue portion, in the midst of five male auditioners yelling out characters for me to impersonate - "Old Jewish Woman!" "Evil witch who is afraid of getting melted by water!" "Southern Cheerleader!" "Disfigured Sidekick!" - when it dawned on me - "EVEN MORE DISFIGURED!" - that in an audition setting, us actors will do nearly anything. "A fish that's just been caught and is wriggling around on the ground!" I didn't do that one...but I'm pretty sure I would have if they asked. It would have been funny. For them.

P.S. If you're wondering about the picture of Jack Nicholson at the top...I Google imaged "Actor" and this is the first image that came up. I wonder if he knows that about himself. Followed by: James Marsden, Matt LeBlanc, Keanu Reeves and Patrick Swayze. There you go, the best actors in the world.

Coupons and Singing

Thank goodness it's Friday, right?

I requested a bunch of catalogue mailings today so that I could receive some colorful things in the mail. Now that I've gone paperless with virtually everything I'm signed up for, I find that I miss getting all that paper.

Apres work, I have, "Go To McDonald's!" on the agenda. I have a coupon for a free coffee, which expires today. How is it that I always let coupons hide out in my wallet until the last possible day, when suddenly a free latte becomes an added stressor in my life? Because even if I don't want the coffee, to give up a free one would be out of the question. It would be like spitting Freebie Man in the face. Still, it will likely slip my mind that I am to go claim my FREE-McCafe espresso-based beverage, and tomorrow morning I'll have a fit as I pass by a McDonald's and remember my freaking coupon.

After my big plans at Mickey D's I need to go home and warm-up for an audition I have this evening. I've had "Audition!" (which is a rendition I made up, of Fiddler on the Roof's "Tradition") stuck in my head all day. I'm in a musical frame of mind because, for some reason - I was bought by compliments - I am auditioning for a sketch comedy/musical extravaganza. And this means singing and dancing while also being hilarious. Since I can't sing or dance without being hilarious, this should be doable. To prepare, earlier this week I went through my musical hits library, which includes extensive Disney selections, Moulin Rouge and the song, "I Will Never Leave You", a duet I learned in theatre school. I've taken to the streets, singing nearly everywhere I go. In New York, I was taught this trick where, as you wait for the subway, you can sing at full belt when the train passes by. Not that you can't do this anytime you want in NYC, really.

Okay, singing: Covered. Dancing? Only the Lord can help me with this one. All I have under my belt is an intro to ballet class, aerobics and a Shania Twain dance I co-choreographed and co-starred in in 3rd Grade.

I'll just go ahead and assume that this will be one of those laugh-about-it-or-cry-about-it scenarios. I'll get back to you.

BUNK Episode 5

BUNK Episode 4

BUNK Episode 3

BUNK Episode 2

BUNK Pilot Episode

On Asian Guys Carrying Their Girlfriend's Purses

I've made an observation. Just an observation. A trend, if you will. On a regular basis I see Asian guys carrying their girlfriend's purses (and shopping bags). That's it. That's my observation. But how great is this? Ladies, do you, or do you not want someone to carry your purse for you? Right?

I'm not sure how the Asian ladies swung this, but I think it's the perfect solution to the everyday problem of carrying things. Get a boyfriend who will carry your stuff for you.

Now, I am not the only one who has pondered this conundrum. A blogger on Mooiness.com writes:

"I can only think of a few exceptions when you should hold on to her [your girlfriend's] handbag or purse:

• She’s trying on clothes.
• She’s going to a public toilet and she doesn’t want to carry it in.
• She’s holding your baby."

Laura Volunteers at TIFF

Good golly! It's been a while since I posted last...so long in fact that my Safari had no memory of blogger.com and that Blogger has completely re-done their website, which makes me a little uneasy. I'll have to tame the beast later. Now, I blog!

So, Toronto is very exciting this time of year! Aside from the four regular seasons - Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter - we have a fifth season: TIFF! The Toronto International Film Festival; the biggest film festival the world, I recently learned. And I am finally back in Canada and happy to be a part of the excitement!

I decided to volunteer this year, because I thought it sounded glamourous to be brushing shoulders with celebs, and because I'm too cheap to pay for festival movie tickets. Honorable, I know. Despite my original intentions, I had a moment today, while I was scanning ticket barcodes, when I realized that this festival is really run by volunteers. That without cheap and superficial people like me, there would be no festival. 

I'm A Bag Lady

I carry around way too much stuff. Its so heavy, that in my mind my thoughts dance between how sore my back and shoulders are, and how I'm gonna be RIPPED by the time I get home. Yeah...my arms are going to be ripped off my body. 

This morning I was walking to work down Bloor Street and admiring these women with their trendy clothes and their cute, teeny-tiny purses. As I gazed in awe I yearned for their carefree spirit, their uninhibited walk and their fabulous posture. And there was I, Quasimodo, heading back to the bell tower...Dragging my baggage.

But this week I have been feeling the winds of change, and I thought, "Why can't I be like one of those Parisian-types?" I like scarves. The obstacle? The need to carry around my life on my shoulders.

My Day Job

I got a full-time job, two weeks ago now. Unfortunately it's not acting on Degrassi...sigh...but...I am now a Receptionist. I like to call it my "Day Job". And I get paid.

Since I haven't worked full-time for a few years, I have felt quite a bit of shell-shock over the past two weeks. Consequently, I haven't been the most pleasant version of myself. Tears clothes and throws car across the street. It proceeds to burst into flames. I think my family feared for for their lives. But eight hours is a LONNNNNGGGG TIME, am I right?! (I am not supposed to count hours though, or it will drive me into a crazy Wolfman rage.) However, one of the other perks about working full-time (other than getting paid. Did I mention I get paid? I think only those in the arts know how fabulous this is.), is that I get weekends off! There will never be a Saturday or Sunday when I will have to go in to work. Today is Saturday and I was not at work. Tomorrow is Sunday and I will not be at work. I like this. 

Is an office job the most thrilling of professions? I'm gonna say, no. But everyone is very kind and I entertain myself by working on my French with my bilingual co-workers. D'accord! 

And there are the simple pleasures, like finding this Justin Bieber life-size cardboard cutout at the pharmacy. You can't help but give a shocked laugh and look around you to see if anyone else thinks that this is insane.

This photo does NOT do it justice. LIFE-SIZE people!!! Its like Justin Bieber is right there. Pre-teens and their mothers scattered over the ground, weeping in front of him. I then break the news that he is only a piece of cardboard. And that the real Justin Bieber is a robot constructed by the Government of Canada to pose as a pop star. Awkward. 

Okay, I'm going to have to tarnish my image and get a picture of myself with him. Yep.

Laura in the Kitchen: Cherry-Cheesecake Pops

It has been a HOT summer, eh? (I threw an "eh" into conversation with an American friend today...gosh. You know you're back in Canada when...)

I was browsing my mom's Chatelaine magazine and came across this recipe for Cherry-Cheesecake Pops. Cheesecake + Frozen = Perfection on a warm summer day. 

So here's Cherry-Cheesecake Pops: The Musical! Sorry I got carried away...it's just a recipe. But you can sing while you're making them.

1. Start out with 2 cups of cherries.

  

2. (This part stinks a bit, unless you're Martha Stewart and have people do this for you.) You have to pit and chop up the cherries so that they look something like this. You can actually buy a cherry pitter if you like to pit cherries on a regular basis, such as this one: http://www.williams-sonoma.com/products/oxo-olive-and-cherry-pitter/.

Baby, you're a firework.

From savvysmilinginlove on flickr

i'm usually not into pop music and when my friend asked me if i knew katy perry's Firework (on 4th of july, actually), i gave a "yeaaaah." but she insisted i listened to the lyrics, and i'm glad i gave miss perry another shot. they are absolutely inspiring. it seems like it's a day when i need an extra dose of inspiration so i thought i'd share it with you too. hope it makes you feel like anything is possible!

 

oh yeah, there's a spark in you.

 

FIREWORK - Katy Perry

Do you ever feel like a plastic bag

Drifting throught the wind

Wanting to start again

Do you ever feel, feel so paper thin

Like a house of cards

One blow from caving in

Do you ever feel already buried deep

Six feet under screams

But no one seems to hear a thing

Do you know that there's still a chance for you

Cause there's a spark in you

You just gotta ignite the light

And let it shine

Just own the night

Like the Fourth of July

Cause baby you're a firework

Come on show 'em what your worth

Make 'em go "Oh, oh, oh!"

As you shoot across the sky-y-y

Appreciating the Little Things

I had a hard time getting up this morning.

I was feeling all emo and thinking about how my life is not really as I'd like it to be right now.

Naturally I wanted to stay in bed and pity myself.

But with my head echoing the wise words of my friends, and through my own experience, I knew I needed to get up, go outside and burn off some steam.

I went biking through all the little bits of nature in my town. 

Three things that make me happy. 1. Biking. 2. Nature. 3. High Serotonin levels.

I get to this one little marshy, swampy pond area that I frequent, and often as I'm riding around I like to perch on this wooden bridge for a while and watch the ducks and other birds. I like how light and carefree birds are.

Today a special treasure was waiting for me...a beaver.

You might be thinking, okay whatever, you live in Canada, beavers flock around like squirrels. But they do NOT. Funnily enough though, this is the second beaver that I've seen in the course of a couple weeks (which have been the first I've EVER seen in the wild!).

I was completely enamored with this beaver. I couldn't stop watching it. He would go swim into the middle the pond, dive down grab some sticks or mud and then come back towards me to build on to his dam. Somehow he managed to bring up handfuls of mud and pack it on to his house. Beavers are so funny. They're like living cartoons.

Fantastic Fig and Cat ~ America's Got Talent Audition

Part II of "TV: It's a TRAP!"

"It's time to DANCE!!!" I love the cat's involvement in this piece.

TV: It's a TRAP!

"All the people'll be asking, 'WHO ARE DEM?!'" -two hefty dancer women, on how they anticipate the audience will respond to their performance

I am wondering who dem are.

I'm watching America's Got Talent and finding myself a lot distracted. We got dem girls busting a move, Yo-Yo boy and Susan Boyle II, and after the commercial, some circus kids are going to motorcycle inside the "Globe of Death".
  
Sound of TV smashing through window and falling six stories. An explosion follows. 

Okay, I've pulled myself away. 

You have to be careful what you sit down and watch, cause some junk will SUCK YOU IN.

Earlier tonight, I joined my dad who was watching a show on Discovery Channel about electric eels and how they murder people. So interesting! These things'll kill you! Beats me how Ariel survived the zaps of Flotsam and Jetsam.

I don't know about you, but if I sit down and watch Food Network...its like, "What?!... It's 2015?!... Are you serious?... How did that happen?!"...

I'm not bashing TV. I actually wish I was a bit more caught up on current television trends. I've come to realize that all I watch are re-runs of old sitcoms, Bugs Bunny, Food Network and Home and Garden Television. (Uhh, and I stumbled upon 'Manhunter' once on OLN. Awesome.) Although I don't really renovate or cook much, when the time comes I will reveal my knowledge and impress a whole room of people. And they'll say, "Laura, you are so knowledgable." And I'll say, "Mmmm. Yeasss."

Reading is also good, but I've been working on Harry Potter 7 for about a month. It's thick.

Telephone Phobia

I used to have Telephone Phobia. I dreaded more than anything having to make a phone call, whether it be to the hairdresser or to my best friend. So I'm talking when I was, say, (I dunno, when do kids start using phones?) 6 years old, until age, um...17? I don't remember, but it went on for a long time, this fear of phone calls.

The cure, as goes for ALL fears, was to get a job as a Customer Service Rep in a call center. To clarify...I do not mean to say that working at a call center cures all fears, more so the facing of one's fear. i.e. If you're afraid of lions, you should go spend the night in the Serengeti. 

Though this fear has mostly been worked out of me, I realize that on occasion, it is still an issue. I am the QUEEN of screening calls. I do not like to answer the phone. I probably shouldn't say this because now people will think I'm purposefully not answering my phone. Hey, there are times when I legitimately cannot come to the phone. Is that a crime? Gosh, cell phones are the worst. (And the greatest.) But my point is that, since I've been looking for a job, I've been getting phone calls from different businesses, who have the heart to meet with me for an interview. And every time the phone rings, I stare at it for a few moments and deliberate as to whether or not I'm going to answer the phone. EVERY TIME. And then, I ultimately figure that I'll just have to call them back anyway, so I might as well save myself the time and answer it right then.

I'm certain that this is why texting and emailing has become so popular. They are by far the easiest and least-scary forms of communication. You can take time to think about what you're going to say, Google something if you have no idea what someone is talking about, and you can use a thesaurus to sound more smarter if you want. Some people don't even have calling plans on their phone. They only text! I don't know any of these people personally, but I know for a fact that there are plans like this offered.

Laura Searches for a Job

Guys! This whole, looking for a (paying) job thing, is really hampering my online blogging/vlogging productivity. But hey, this is life, right?

In spite of this, I did spend some time this week brainstorming some new ideas for my website, which I'm really excited about. I reckon that in most endeavors, you eventually get to a point when things run a bit dry and you have to stop and reassess. So reassessment is happening. 

My MacBook and I have become even more intimately acquainted over the past few weeks as we rarely leave each others side. Or front. I've been constantly looking for work and editing and re-editing my resume. Job hunting is a lot of work, but its exciting too. A new opportunity, new people to meet, new employee discounts to take advantage of. Note: Beware the initial shock of working retail and wanting to buy EVERYTHING. They might as well pay you in clothing and shoes. Not good.

Today I had a five minute interview at one of our lovely Canadian-to-the-core retailers. You have to hustle in a five minute interview. One question I really should have prepared, and one that YOU should prepare immediately is, "So, tell me about yourself." Agh. I was reading just last week about that exact question in this Acting book in regards to an agent interview, and you think I could remember what I read? No, of course not. So I just blathered on about how I'm an actor and I'm a super excellent individual, as I gasped for air; the resulting combo of nerves and having to walk up two flights of stairs immediately before the interview started. But in five minutes there is no time to catch your breath. You suck it up and push through. 

What To Do When The Weather Sucks

I don't even know what season its supposed to be right now, but I do know that its been awful rainy and I'm wearing a wooly sweater. And I'm watching hockey. WHAT...IS...GOING...ON?!

It can be disappointing when the weather isn't cooperating with your sun-tanning plans, so I thought I'd compile a list of alternate activities you can do when the weather sucks. Unless you want to go play outside in the rain. Then just go. This list isn't for you.

1. Read your friend's blog. Or catch up on world news or whatever.
2. Go through your cupboards and throw out everything that's expired. As an alternative, pull it all out and invite your friends over for a party.
3. Jump on the bed and sing, "My Favorite Things" from Sound of Music.
4. Write a poem. Then call random phone numbers and share your poem with them.
5. Practice handstands against the wall and pretend you're Luke Skywalker.
6. Rearrange your furniture.
7. Rearrange your roommate's/parents' furniture.
8. Break out the glitter and get crafty! Make "I love you" cards for all your pets.
9. Watch the cartoons you used to watch as a kid, and realize that they're probably even funnier now than they were then.
10. Go to Costco wearing rollerblades. Have a friend document the event for you.
11. Re-read Harry Potter. Your Harry Potter super-fan friends will shun you if you don't know what's going on when the last movie comes out. i.e. "Wait, who's Harry Potter, again?"
12. And lastly...for you people who I told not to read the "indoor" list, go outside, find a grassy hill, and make yourself a good old, rainy Slip-n'-Slide.

Things I like: Kensington Market

It's been a busy few days. Today I've been spending time in the city, so I'm feelin' pretty good. Tired, but good. I worked my improv chops last night at Second City for my class and then a jam called, "Improv Night in Canada" where we get to wear hockey jerseys and pretend we're hockey players while we improvise. or something. Yeah, my team won. Just sayin'.

But TODAY, I had lunch with a friend and since I didn't have much going on in the afternoon, she suggested I go to Kensington Market. The last time I had gone there was in the 9th grade, and all I remembered was men on the street carrying around big hunks of meat. But there's general knowledge that people like Kensington Market, so it was time to give it another go.

For me, part of moving to a new city is learning to fall in love with it. So I'm gung-ho for seeing new areas of Toronto. I want to know all my friends' favorite places, streets, cafes, and shops, so that I can steal them and call them my favorites too. 

Anywho, its been freakin' hot today, but still, I trekked westward to the market. I won't lie...I almost gave up and retreated to Starbucks. That's so LAME. I'm just thinking right now that I don't want to be a lame Starbucks person anymore. Currently I'm at Second Cup. sigh. Did you know they have limited WI-FI??? WHY did i come here? Sorry...I've drifted.

Vlog #4 - New York City, Ontario

What Not To Wear

I don’t know what it is, but I have an insanely difficult time dressing myself when I’m living in the suburbs. Most of my adolescence, I was either poked fun at because of my clothing choices, or labelled more of the free spirit type who “doesn’t care what anyone thinks” or one who “just wants to be comfortable.” And I guess that’s true. I often don’t care what anyone thinks (as long as I don't see anyone I know), and who doesn’t like to be comfortable? I don’t think anyone wakes up in the morning and thinks...I want to wear my most uncomfortable outfit today. Except perhaps Lady Gaga. I once saw her wear an outfit made of rubber. I can’t think of anything more uncomfortable than that.

BUT, shortly after I moved to Manhattan, something miraculous happened. Well, something that had its beginnings after this one time I watched The Devil Wears Prada. I decided to start dressing well. I wanted to look fashionable and to wear clothes that fit me. It helps when the majority of people around you are also trying to look trendy with well-fitting clothes (on second thought, that depends where you hang around).

just photos.

Here are some pictures I've taken lately out and around the GTA. Hope you like!

Laura in the Kitchen: Making Cupcakes

My first Acting Gig!

Last Thursday, I had my first acting gig! Now, when I announced on Facebook that I had a job, news spread like wildfire and everyone I knew was asking me about this "JOB". This left me to explain that YES I got a job, but it was only for a day, so my job search was not over. I think for an actor the job search is rarely, if ever, over.

But anyway, this was an exciting day! I was going to be filming a training video for a Danish pharmaceutical company. I had my costume pieces packed up in my rolly luggage and after wandering around Toronto, and then turning around and walking in the correct direction, I made it to the studio. I had no idea what to expect. But I was determined to give off the air of an acting veteran. Like Meryl Streep. I was greeted, "Meryl! You made it!" My air giving offing was good.

Inside the studio, the production people were all doing their production type duties and I was escorted past the equipment and the green screens to the back room. Again...cool as a cucumber. Next I was told that I could go upstairs to have some breakfast. (Second breakfast.) "Okay!" Upstairs there was a lovely living room type scenario, complete with a candle or two, and on the counter was water, juice, coffee, fruit, granola bars, bagels and  pastries, all lined up in little rows like craft services does. This is something I could get used to. (Since then I've made my mother line up all my food in little rows so that I can pretend I'm on a film set.) But again, I kept my Tee Hee's on the inside, because Meryl Streep would NOT Tee Hee.

Chewy Goes to the Dentist

A couple days ago, Chewy went to the dentist. Yes, he's a dog. And he went to the dentist. 

He's a very well-loved dog.

But, just as you don't care for going to the dentist, dogs also don't. They care for it so little that they have to be put under anesthesia. Yes, our dog basically went through minor surgery so he could have his teeth cleaned. Are we really that image conscious about our pooch? Only partially. Apparently Sheltie's in particular are infamous for terrible teeth and if we didn't clean them, they'd decay and fall out or something. So putting him under was the lesser of two evils.

The morning of, I dropped off little Chewy at the vet's office and would pick him up in a while. 

Six hours later, this dog looked like he had spent a week trapped in a well...or as though he was shellshocked after a few months in the trenches. Poor Chewbacca was so drugged up and disoriented that I'm not sure he even knew where he was, or who I was. But his teeth? Like an Oral-B Commercial.

Laura in the Kitchen: Kraft Dinner

I was making some Kraft Dinner for lunch today and although I never really follow the directions by proper measurements, I still like to look at the directions for some reason.

I noticed that there is a "Classic" Cheese Sauce option, and then a "Sensible Solution" Cheese Sauce, which uses lower fat ingredients to make it more healthy.

This struck me, and I thought...Why is there no, "I'm Gonna Go For It!" Cheese Sauce? Or "Pack on the Pounds" Cheese Sauce? Or "You Only Live Once" Cheese Sauce? Why?

Well, this got me thinking creatively and here's my recipe for "Get Fat" Cheese Sauce:

ADD 3 TBSP of bacon fat (chilled),

1/4 cup of heavy cream,

and the Cheese Sauce Mix to pasta.

Stir until evenly coated.

Fry one pound of bacon until desired doneness, chop and stir into pasta. You may also substitute sausage or ham if desired.

If you want to go all out, sprinkle your cheese of choice right on top.

Serve with a side of garlic bread.

Hope ya'll like my recipe for "Oops, Can't Fit in my Pants Anymore" Cheese Sauce!

Paula Deen would be proud.