Free Work.

It all started when I began moving. I thought, 'oh this is a great opportunity to intern at a few places, get a feel for some career fields and see where I wan to settle.' I had this image for the next few years of my life but let me tell you, that image has yet to really come true.

Intern:

       a. A student or a recent graduate undergoing supervised practical training.

Now if only it were that easy. 

When I went into college, I was under the impression that once college was done, I would intern somewhere and that would either lead to a job or help me nail down another job. Little did I know, the modern day "intern" is just an excuse for employers to lock out entry level workers while getting some free labour. 

Am I the only one who thinks this is down right shitty?

I have interned at three different places, each for about 3-4 months each time. None led to a real job (granted, I did get a freelance small gig from my most recent internship at Post City magazine that I al totally thankful for). I keep telling myself that the harder I work, the more internships I work, the more experience I tuck under my belt, the easier it would be to get a job. I keep telling myself 'this is normal.'

But my question is: why is it normal? Why is this okay? 

Internships are logical. It's actually a great way to work and get experience. I know a lot more after my three internships then I knew before. And, in all reality, I'm looking for more internships. But what are we really gaining? It doesn't stimulate the economy, it's not helping freshly graduated students or young adults, it's not helping young people be successful (not always but I'm sure there are cases). For the employer, it's probably great. Free work from someone you don't truly have to be nice to or respect and who is absolutely without a doubt replaceable and this work can continue on for as long as there are universities and people.

I've been reading a lot of articles from all over the country about interns, internships and people who are fed up with not getting paid. I want to join that bandwagon. While I love my current job for the people, let's be honest. I'm not earning as much money as I could be. I'm not using any of my real talents, I'm just being me (professional, respectful, efficient and just damn good at my job). I would love a job where I feel I'm using my college degree or my brain. I would love a job that is challenging and pays me for my talents. 

I feel like it's mostly career fields that fall into a creative career: writing, art or fashion. But I could be wrong. Have you worked internships that led to nothing? Or have you worked internships that led to a great opportunity?

I hope to get there someday.  

Just Some Things

Lately I've been feeling like I can't string more then one thought together for long enough to write a whole post about it. But I still want to get all these thoughts and feelings out of my brain so, like some bloggers do "Letter" posts, I'm just going to bullet point like 5 things that I've wanted to write about but can't focus on long enough to finish.

This morning's coffee.

Happy Saturday, btw. 10 days till vacation!!!

1. I've been feeling a lot more socially fulfilled lately, which is ironic because this week I've stopped working at my internship and that was like half of my social time. Then I was sitting at my desk at the studio this morning talking to my director and two of the older dancers and it struck me. I hang out with more people age 10-16 then I do my own age. It's time to start hanging out with people my own age.

2. I realize that I go home in 10 days. That's incredible! I'm so so excited but also a bit sad. That means another year has gone by that I've been creating this other life in which I'm not totally comfortable with. I think I need the little switch in my brain to click so I realize that this is a good thing, that I really do, deep down, love what I'm doing and where I am. I think I'm still clinging to the hope that everything will go back to normal. But I don't want it to, I like traveling and living in interesting places and seeing things and meeting new people. Dear brain, please get it through you!!

3. I've been enjoying running more. I ran for the first time outside yesterday and it was really really hard! But I liked it because I felt like I was making progress because I could see where my run ends and could give it actual distance. I've also spent the past few days looking at pictures of myself in 2011 when I lost a ton of weight. I was so confident and happy. I want that back. I want to look in the mirror and like what I see, not make excuses for what I see.

I have a goal. I'm giving myself till June to get myself back to where I want to be. That's a long time, I know, but I have a vacation planned for Vegas and I want to be able to walk around in shorts and a bikini and feel okay with it. I'm starting now. Wish me luck!

Christmas tree in my building.

4. I've had this whole f-ing fiasco with TMobile to deal with this week and it's actually really stressed me out. Long story short, I got sent to collections A. for an OBSCURE amount of money and B. when I shouldn't have (typical, right?) Since I've been dealing with it I suddenly realize just how my actions impact my life (which sounds ridiculous). Jake pointed out that if I let it go, it'll effect my credit and thus possibly effect any future purchases that rely on credit. Then I had a small panic attack about my future. Man, am I irrational or what? Wish me luck disputing TMobile from not only another country but another time zone! SO fun!

5. On my quest to better myself, I've successfully stopped biting my nails! They aren't very long yet but they're getting there, slowly. This is a HUGE deal for me. I've been biting my nails I think since before my nails started even forming (ew)! It's a nervous tick I think. But I decided that I was nice hands for Christmas and New Years pictures. Plus, having nice nails always has a way of making me feel more girlie!

What has everyone else been up to? Anything you want to get off your chest? I'm all ears!

City Scape.

The rhythmic sway of the streetcar has become soothing. Sitting next to strangers isn't uncomfortable anymore. Only the shrieking and squealing of metal on metal can wake me from the day dream I'm in.  

"Next Stop: Soho Street." The familiar bell tolls for Soho Street and I maneuver around the crowed streetcar to get to the back doors. After coming to a shuddering stop, the doors swing open and it's out into the crisp air I go.

It's day like these in which I love this city. It's a cold day, the sun shining through the clearing clouds and fog. The sounds are tangible. The clacking of heels fades the further away from Queen Street I walk. The bangs, pangs and booms get louder as I approach a construction zone. It's like Toronto is a continuously growing organism. 

Beep-beep-beep of a reversing dump truck cuts through the air, carrying with it dust and crumbling rubble. Whistles blow as a police officer directs traffic around the dump truck. The ground rumbles as the truck pulls away, taking dirt and concrete away. The dust starts to settle, orange vests with orange heads sit along a broken wall, smoking cheap cigarettes and holding dirty coffee mugs. 

The smells of the city are a map all in themselves. City air will never be as delicious as country air, that's a fact, but it is still something to relish in. The smell of people, productivity, growth, changes, hustle and bustle, cars, food, dirt. It's something I look forward to. Cigarette smokes intertwines the city smells, mostly as you pass a coffee shop or a bar or The Second City Training Facility. Occasionally the smell of horse manure is weasels it's way into the fabric of Toronto. They you know the horse cops have been out. The faint smell of hot dogs wafts down King Street. It must be lunch time.

Walking down a city street is like walking to a heat beat. 1, 2, 1, 2, 1, 2. You set a stride for yourself, clearing pot holes, cracks and piles of garbage on Thursday mornings. The patter of other people surrounds you, other people's personal beats help making up your own beat. Unconsciously, I find myself matching other walking beats or walking opposite to create a new beat. Every block or so, the beat changes, like the chorus of a song. As the street is chopped into segments by streetcar tracks the beat changes. One big step, two little. A step slightly left, switching back to the right. One, two, pitter, patter. 

As the wind kicks up, I near my building. Weaving through the lunch traffic while crossing Wellington, a crunch through the gravel spread across the sidewalk. I shrug my scarf closer to my ears and fish my keys out of the bottom of my purse. The honking of angry cab drivers is muted as I enter the lobby, which marble glittering in the afternoon sun. It's strange to call somewhere so fancy home, but I do.

It's weird to think that I really enjoy being somewhere other then Oregon. But I really do. This city feels new and fresh and I'm ready to try it on. 

Soup for the Soul.

Some days, you just need a soul lifter. To do something that makes your soul smile and warm up. Lately, I've been feeling like I've put my soul on the middle freezer shelf, where it's been sitting for a few days, cooling and slowing reaching closer to freezing.

Okay, that sounds a bit drastic but you get the picture. 

Lately, I've been feeling this overwhelming sense of being stuck. I'm in limbo, almost through it. I've been working 4 doubles a week for almost 2 months now, and while that doesn't sound like a long time, boy I can tell you it is. 

This morning, I got to review a new bacon shop. It's a sandwich shop dedicated to bacon and I have been pretty excited about this. But it wasn't the free coffee and bacon that made me feel good. 

Not what I'm drinking today,
but I got my first Peppermint Mocha
over the weekend. Heaven.
Let the holiday's begin! 

Instead of getting up at 5:30, I slept till 7. Instead of rushing at the gym and having to chose between running only or running a little less and squeezing in some leg and arm work, I got to do it all (and the sun was up, whaaa?!) Instead of rushing my breakfast I took my time, and made a grocery list, too! I took a long shower and had time to do my hair. I got to watch the morning news, which I enjoy, and did some light reading. By the time I was leaving the house, I felt more like a person and not a drone.  

Now I'm sitting in a coffee shop, writing this, eating my free bacon sandwich and contemplating what life will be like when I don't have to get up early anymore. I think today was good for my soul.

It's funny how something so simple can make you feel so much better. 

What things make you feel better when you're feeling over worked, upset or just plain tired?

The Dirty Life.

Currently, I'm reading The Dirty Life. It's a story about a woman who suddenly finds herself uprooting everything she has been her whole life, falling in love with a rustic farmer and starting a farm from scratch with him.

Now, I've found myself, more often then not, totally relating to her, the situations she finds herself in and the path she chooses to take. I'm not exactly on a path like hers, I'm actually following that path in an arcing fashion.

Source.

I was raised more on a farm then not (meaning I did farm-esque chores and had more of a farm life then any other kid I was friends with. I know how to clean out animal pens, identify types of chickens by their egg color and clip wings while I don't know how to play Super Mario, I couldn't name more then two cartoon shows and I wouldn't be able to name all the charms in Lucky Charms). Some of the stories the author tells remind me of times on my parents land, the ridiculous things I've done in the name of 'farming' and what I plan to do with my life.

As much as I've tried to fight the farmers life, it's buried deep inside my soul. I have come to terms with the fact that I will spend the rest of my life somewhere within the vicinity of farming. Lucky girl I am, in my attempts to push myself further into urban life, I've found myself smack dab in the middle of a (really good) relationship with a guy who, at some point, wants to join the over-all wearing, straw hat totin', hoin' kind.

Fresh from my parents garden.

But I must say, reading this book has made me miss Oregon. I was walking to work this morning and I had some crazy deja vu about walking down the garden at my parents house, the familiar crunchy-squelch of the wet, muddy grass covered in half frozen leaves. The dogs running on ahead, occasionally barking at a squirrel who thought it was safe to exit the apple tree. I thought about opening the chicken coop, shooing squawking hens off the nests and carefully putting warm eggs in a tub. 

As I sit here, remembering the feel of the air, the smell of the grass and the sounds surrounding me, I can also imagine the scoffing my parents just be doing right now. It's hard growing up doing different things then all your friends. Of course, when I was 12 the last thing I wanted to do on a Saturday morning was clean out the rabbit run, shovel chicken crap or help stack wood, but as I'm getting older and moving to all these different, mostly more urban places, I miss those days.

The garden after my sister's wedding.

Maybe it's the time of year, with winter coming and the holidays close behind. I think I miss the warmth of the wood stove in my parents' kitchen, the smell of baking bread, the familiar puddles of warmth in bed as the hot water bottle heats the covers. I miss the tinkling of the front gate bell and the twinkle of the lights from the house shining through the holly tree out front. I miss my dog, Chasey, sleeping on her strangely over-stuffed yet too small for her dog bed and the silky soft cat who I swear will probably never die sneaking into the kitchen unnoticed by the dog to curl up on the chair by the wood stove.

It's so weird the things you miss as you get older.

With Your Head Down.

Over the past few and a bit, I enjoy my walks. Whether it was walking to work in New Haven or walking to the subway now, I enjoy moving at a slower pace. It gives me more time to look around and take things in. I've also noticed that it allows me to observe more of my surroundings and get to know where I am better.

It wasn't until the other day, however, that I noticed a trend.

When I'm walking somewhere new, down a new street or taking a new way to work, or even on a stroll with Jake, I'm always looking up. I like to look at things around me and people around me as best I can. But the occasions where I'm walking somewhere familiar, I walk with my head down. And not just looking down. I've noticed that I walk with my head hanging down.

After a little reading on the subject, I've learned that my head down means I have self confidence issues and don't want to be looked at. Interestingly enough, both of those are true. While I'm slowly getting more comfortable with myself and accepting me for who I am, I still face self confidence issues and no, I don't really like to be looked at.

Another article says that walking with you hands in your pockets could mean you are unhappy with how you look and, combined with your head downs, means you're unhappy. I walk like this frequently. I put my hands in my pockets because it's cold, or so I thought. Could this mean that subconsciously I'm more unhappy that I know?

Today, I was walking down the long hallway at work back to my desk and I noticed that I was passing people and 99% of the time I have my head down. I started making the conscious effort to have my head up, smile and look at people more. I'm such a social being. I thrive on being social and having friends. Has the past year and a bit or moving a lot and being in places where I don't know people turned me into a recluse?

How do you walk? What do you think it says about you??

Profound Thoughts.

I have this unsettling feeling that this isn't going to be enough. I spend most of my moments dreaming of what's to come. While I'm content with where I am, I'm not content on what's to come.

What is to come? I don't know yet. Well then how can you not be content with something you don't know yet? Because I should plan something, shouldn't I?

I have this unsettling feeling that this isn't going to be enough, that I'm going to want more. But then, why is that an unsettling feeling? Shouldn't it be a good feeling to want more? Maybe it's only a good feeling when you can obtain more. But I can obtain more. I have to push for more, I guess.

I have recently connected with someone from the far corners of my past. We were never close friends, or really friends at all. It was a fellow classmate that spent four years in the same institution (high school) as I did. I hope I don't offend but let's be honest, I don't even remember if we talked much.

Beside the point.

I've suddenly immersed myself in her story. It's really interesting, what happens after you forget your story for a while and listen to someone else's. It feels like someone reset my brain and gave me new aspirations.

It's interesting to me to find someone who is a lot like me. Who I can relate to, even in a small way. It's even more interesting when I find someone like that who has been in my past and, back then, wasn't a part of my present. It's funny how people like that come from the woodwork every so often.

I hope this new found fire that's smouldering inside me will grow. I so badly want the child inside me to prosper. Children have profound hopes, thoughts and dreams. I want my redirected profound thoughts to be reapplied to my new found independence. I want to see where my inner child can take me.