It appears I have been adopted by one of the girls from the office. Jen, She moved to Calgary a year ago from Vancouver. I suppose she felt sorry for me when I told her my situation and has since been my interactive guide to the city. Along with being adopted I have also been adapting. Me and this new lifestyle I thought would be like oil and water. Turns out it is more like soil and water; slowly sinking in bit by bit. I’ve spent most of my free time either in my chair or in bed, desperately trying to find some quick fix, some means of escapism; Running through variation upon variation of a budget that leaves no room for thrills and frills. While sitting in my arm chair, eating ichiban and finishing the bottle of cheap red wine, lacking the social aspect of my life I daydream, watching old movies like breakfast at Tiffany’s, Sunset Boulevard and All About Eve; beautiful women wearing beautiful things, getting exactly what they want.
Thursday Jen managed to convince me to attend a night of global fest with her and a few friends. ‘Friends’ turned out to be Jen’s boyfriend Paul and his wingman Derrick. When Jen introduced us it was obvious what she was doing and why Derrick was present. He wasn’t my typical type. Don’t get me wrong he was; cute, average height, dark hair, dark eyes, just not someone who would normally turn my head. He was of course, interested in me and I was polite. While we were waiting for the fireworks to begin, we talked the same old opening lines. Then, as ridiculous as it sounds, we had one of those moments where the eyes meet. You know the kind. The eyes meet, you keep the glance for a fifth of a second too long and you see something that you missed before. The muscles in your face pull on their own accord and tighten at the cheeks. Before you can stop it, you are wearing this large grin. You turn your head ever so slightly so your hair covers your flush cheeks and wait till you regain composure till you look back up, tossing your hair as you do. Then you see the same look staring back at you. “Oh Rachel! Stop right there!” I warned myself. “You have seen that look and tossed that hair before!” I couldn’t argue with myself. Thankfully Jen reached over and asked what time it was. The music started and the show began.
That night China lit up Calgary’s skies with eruptions of color and sound. Even with the thunderous explosions above my thoughts were still quite clear and pronounced. Eastern Philosophy, fashion and design crossed my mind. From Dior’s 2007 Couture collection, Armani back in 2001, again now in Prive Spring 2009 and using actress Zhang Ziyi as the face of Emporio Armani for this years ready-to-wear. Talented designers like Jason Wu and Vera Wang. Then the essentials of Chinas contribution to the world of fashion; the mandarin collar, Chinese Silk and Satin brocade. Then Beyond that, China’s historic and modern contributions to amazing architecture and interior design are considerable. I remembered seeing both Asian inspired clothing and décor last Saturday at the mall. I already wanted to go back to induldge in my new fascination. As the two minutes passed that it took me to reminisce all those names, textiles and effects I used to enjoy in excess, I again became downtrodden. Confucius say “he who will not economize must agonize”. Well, having experienced that I am trying to live by the idea “with coarse rice to eat, with water to drink, and my crooked arm for a pillow; is not joy to be found therein.” Another gigantic bloom of color pulled my eyes back from my meditative state. As the fireworks ended I was grateful for the company and to be socially active again. However, the entire way back to my apartment I still couldn’t shake the feeling of melancholy.
I enter my lifeless still somewhat bare apt. Strip down to my loungewear, grab a bottle of nail polish and plunk myself into my armchair. I seem to be a bit complacent and beside myself, The last few weeks have weathered me a little; running on all cylinders. I put in ‘Being Julia’ with Annette Benning; she lies on the massage table covered only by a towel, in a moment when she should be so calm and flaccid she exclaims “ I’m in such an odd state at the moment, a sort of limbo it’s a though the curtain has come down on act one but I have no idea what’s to come in act two”. I wait for my polish to dry on my toes. Looking over my work I spot a smudge on my second toe. This tiny imperfection, the smallest error, the last thing to go wrong, somehow pushes me past limbo and down to hell. With an uncensored scream, like a cannon, I hurl the small bottle at the far wall and watch the red liquid trickle down against the white.
Xo Rachel
Monday, August 31, 2009
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Adjustments
This past Friday night I stayed in home alone, did the cliché thing and ordered Chinese. I had been invited to go out for drink with a couple people from human resources but I have decided though to put my social night life on reserve for now. I did make the exception though to see this new mall that just opened outside of the city. I say make an exception, but really after my last tease of a shopping experience in this city how could I refuse. I was invited by two exceptionally fashionable colleagues Cherri (Cher), The HR administrator and Jacquie from accounting. Since it was opening weekend the wake up call was set for 7:30 am Saturday morning with an eta of 9:00. So I resolved to stay home and conserve my bad habits for tomorrow, as I had already indulged in matters of plastic this week. Of course for purposes of necessity though. Having moved here with nothing but clothes did create a demand for certain household items.
On Wednesday I finally received my purchases from Koolhaus Designs to furnish my living room; a ‘Conrad’ arm chair and ‘Caldo’ side cube. I had already used what was left of the money from the sale of my car to pay for my new bed so the chair and table had to go on plastic. I felt so horrible when I signed the receipt. It felt like a crime to be buying such expensive furniture and putting it back on credit like I would always do. How could I be hit so hard by my carelessness to be repeating the same actions again? “It was necessary though wasn’t it?” I wondered, sitting in my new chair on Friday night alone, my legs slumped over the arm, my #14, steamed rice and a glass of red on my cube. My deeming of the spending as “necessary” collapsed in on me as I finally accepted the knowledge I already was aware of… “Idiot” I called myself, “If you were going to start up all over again why have you even moved here?” Why did I move here? Why did I abandon everything? Just because of some…. Well a lot of very drastic debt? Certainly I had been in similar situations before but I was working when that happened and could always just slowly pay it down. I moved to start fresh. Even if I had stayed, got a new job, even still sold my car, paid off my debt and stayed…I would have always stayed exactly where I was in my life. Having this opportunity, is it maybe a chance to gain a little more substance. I think I am at capacity when it comes to style so what else could it be? This optimism doesn’t typically suit me though, I brush the charges off as a slip, every recovering addict has atleast one. Justifying anything is a special skill I have, besides I always have good intentions even when I do slip up.
My blackberry rang at 10:30 Saturday morning; it was Jacquie calling to say she would be at my place in an hour to pick me up. She had gone out with the office staff last night and slept in. I ran through the shower, threw on my face, flat ironed the hair, pulled on a pair of True Relig. Boot cuts and black tank. When Jacquie called again to notify me she was out front, at the door I looked down, “still the same three pairs I arrived with” I thought, astonished actually I still haven’t bought a new pair yet. I chose the black leather McQueen Ankle boots I got in Vegas last year. However much I loved these shoes it was still a bit of a disappointment to put them on. I had worn them every day this week. That never happens. I had made up my mind, my mission today: SHOES!
On the way out of the city, we made one quick stop off first. Have you ever seen that infomercial for hair removal where it is a round pad that ‘buffers’ your hair away? Well Jacquie swears by it and needed to stock up. We pulled off the hiway and up to Deerfoot Mall, the three of us went in, decided we would grab a coffee while we were there. The mall was quiet, not a lot of traffic. We grabbed our coffee from the food court, headed down to the kiosk and Jacquie bought her ‘buffers.’ Cher asked if I wanted to take a look around since I had never been there before. I was completely blown away, considering the shopping I am accustomed to I wouldn’t have thought I’d find anything in this mall. We hit up Mexx and I found this really cute denim skirt, would look brilliant with this black mock turtle neck I have and couple pair of high waisted trousers. Picked up two pairs of shoes from Sterling, both stilleto’s of course, I have a minimum three inch requirement when it comes to shoes. Scored a cute cropped three button vest at Smart Set. Then a belt, bag and a couple blouses from Winners. After three hours of shopping I walked out spending just under 300.00. Once again I felt the rush and the high from instant gratification, the glamorous feeling of walking around a mall with multiple bags venturing to attain even more. I was actually quite impressed I managed 3 outfits and 4 pair of shoes under five hundred. It was a great experience, the best part was the traffic in the mall. No one was cutting me off, hitting me with their bags, no long line ups, crying children or the blended murmur of numerous conversations drowning out the music being played from overhead etc.
I do have one confession though, while in Winnners I was rummaging through one rack with this cute casual green knit empire waist day dress, they didn’t have it in my size though, so while Cher tried a few things on and Jacqui browsed around I waited to see if any of the employees at the store would restock. So I was browsing around, keeping a close eye on the dress. Finally after about 30 minutes one of the store employees placed a single dress back on the bar. I darted between the other women in the store, YES! It was a small, grabbed the hanger and turned. I was met with resistance, my arm pulled back from an opposing force. I turned back to see another woman with her hand on the other sleeve of my dress. At this point I was tired, my feet sore and my adrenaline rushing from a day of spending. I gave my opponent a deadly glare, “It’s mine!” I said as calmly as possible. It didn’t register what she said back to me but it didn’t matter, I wasn’t giving this up. I tensed my grip, pulled a bit towards me and shouted in her face “I have been shopping all day, my feet hurt I’m tired and have waited 30 minutes for this dress. SO JUST LET GO!!!” she did of course. A few other shoppers in the store took a couple steps back as I turned and marched towards the line for the till.
It was about 3:30pm Cher was tired, Jacquie was hung over, so we decided to call it a day and go the new place another day. On our way out of the mall we passed by fitness source, just like the incident with the dance lessons, I pictured myself a yoga mat and instructional DVD playing in the middle of my living room. “Yoga? Could I be one of those girls?” I was in such a good mood though and the thought of further shopping at a new, larger mall put personal fitness to the back of my mind, I could always come back another day.
Now (Sunday) I sit again home alone, in my apartment. My purchases sprawled out across my living room in the places where furniture and accent pieces should be. Watching Miss Universe; Kosovo was absolutely immaculate. Fantastic hair, stunning gown (she should have won). I gush over having options now for footwear. Pondering which outfit to wear for work tomorrow. Trying to ignore the buyers remorse and the sinking feeling of guilt and fear that I might have already dug myself into another hole. I continually tell myself I did better than I would have before, I should be proud I spent so little and got so much. Like I said I can justify anything… in the moment… I suppose when you radically change and move on to a new stage of your life your mind goes into some sort of “shock.” Still what lingers a little is not what I bought, or couldn’t buy, nothing to do with the sheer materialism of it but behind that the aspect of letting go. “’Give up the ghost’ Rachel” I told myself and turned off the TV
Xo Rachel
On Wednesday I finally received my purchases from Koolhaus Designs to furnish my living room; a ‘Conrad’ arm chair and ‘Caldo’ side cube. I had already used what was left of the money from the sale of my car to pay for my new bed so the chair and table had to go on plastic. I felt so horrible when I signed the receipt. It felt like a crime to be buying such expensive furniture and putting it back on credit like I would always do. How could I be hit so hard by my carelessness to be repeating the same actions again? “It was necessary though wasn’t it?” I wondered, sitting in my new chair on Friday night alone, my legs slumped over the arm, my #14, steamed rice and a glass of red on my cube. My deeming of the spending as “necessary” collapsed in on me as I finally accepted the knowledge I already was aware of… “Idiot” I called myself, “If you were going to start up all over again why have you even moved here?” Why did I move here? Why did I abandon everything? Just because of some…. Well a lot of very drastic debt? Certainly I had been in similar situations before but I was working when that happened and could always just slowly pay it down. I moved to start fresh. Even if I had stayed, got a new job, even still sold my car, paid off my debt and stayed…I would have always stayed exactly where I was in my life. Having this opportunity, is it maybe a chance to gain a little more substance. I think I am at capacity when it comes to style so what else could it be? This optimism doesn’t typically suit me though, I brush the charges off as a slip, every recovering addict has atleast one. Justifying anything is a special skill I have, besides I always have good intentions even when I do slip up.
My blackberry rang at 10:30 Saturday morning; it was Jacquie calling to say she would be at my place in an hour to pick me up. She had gone out with the office staff last night and slept in. I ran through the shower, threw on my face, flat ironed the hair, pulled on a pair of True Relig. Boot cuts and black tank. When Jacquie called again to notify me she was out front, at the door I looked down, “still the same three pairs I arrived with” I thought, astonished actually I still haven’t bought a new pair yet. I chose the black leather McQueen Ankle boots I got in Vegas last year. However much I loved these shoes it was still a bit of a disappointment to put them on. I had worn them every day this week. That never happens. I had made up my mind, my mission today: SHOES!
On the way out of the city, we made one quick stop off first. Have you ever seen that infomercial for hair removal where it is a round pad that ‘buffers’ your hair away? Well Jacquie swears by it and needed to stock up. We pulled off the hiway and up to Deerfoot Mall, the three of us went in, decided we would grab a coffee while we were there. The mall was quiet, not a lot of traffic. We grabbed our coffee from the food court, headed down to the kiosk and Jacquie bought her ‘buffers.’ Cher asked if I wanted to take a look around since I had never been there before. I was completely blown away, considering the shopping I am accustomed to I wouldn’t have thought I’d find anything in this mall. We hit up Mexx and I found this really cute denim skirt, would look brilliant with this black mock turtle neck I have and couple pair of high waisted trousers. Picked up two pairs of shoes from Sterling, both stilleto’s of course, I have a minimum three inch requirement when it comes to shoes. Scored a cute cropped three button vest at Smart Set. Then a belt, bag and a couple blouses from Winners. After three hours of shopping I walked out spending just under 300.00. Once again I felt the rush and the high from instant gratification, the glamorous feeling of walking around a mall with multiple bags venturing to attain even more. I was actually quite impressed I managed 3 outfits and 4 pair of shoes under five hundred. It was a great experience, the best part was the traffic in the mall. No one was cutting me off, hitting me with their bags, no long line ups, crying children or the blended murmur of numerous conversations drowning out the music being played from overhead etc.
I do have one confession though, while in Winnners I was rummaging through one rack with this cute casual green knit empire waist day dress, they didn’t have it in my size though, so while Cher tried a few things on and Jacqui browsed around I waited to see if any of the employees at the store would restock. So I was browsing around, keeping a close eye on the dress. Finally after about 30 minutes one of the store employees placed a single dress back on the bar. I darted between the other women in the store, YES! It was a small, grabbed the hanger and turned. I was met with resistance, my arm pulled back from an opposing force. I turned back to see another woman with her hand on the other sleeve of my dress. At this point I was tired, my feet sore and my adrenaline rushing from a day of spending. I gave my opponent a deadly glare, “It’s mine!” I said as calmly as possible. It didn’t register what she said back to me but it didn’t matter, I wasn’t giving this up. I tensed my grip, pulled a bit towards me and shouted in her face “I have been shopping all day, my feet hurt I’m tired and have waited 30 minutes for this dress. SO JUST LET GO!!!” she did of course. A few other shoppers in the store took a couple steps back as I turned and marched towards the line for the till.
It was about 3:30pm Cher was tired, Jacquie was hung over, so we decided to call it a day and go the new place another day. On our way out of the mall we passed by fitness source, just like the incident with the dance lessons, I pictured myself a yoga mat and instructional DVD playing in the middle of my living room. “Yoga? Could I be one of those girls?” I was in such a good mood though and the thought of further shopping at a new, larger mall put personal fitness to the back of my mind, I could always come back another day.
Now (Sunday) I sit again home alone, in my apartment. My purchases sprawled out across my living room in the places where furniture and accent pieces should be. Watching Miss Universe; Kosovo was absolutely immaculate. Fantastic hair, stunning gown (she should have won). I gush over having options now for footwear. Pondering which outfit to wear for work tomorrow. Trying to ignore the buyers remorse and the sinking feeling of guilt and fear that I might have already dug myself into another hole. I continually tell myself I did better than I would have before, I should be proud I spent so little and got so much. Like I said I can justify anything… in the moment… I suppose when you radically change and move on to a new stage of your life your mind goes into some sort of “shock.” Still what lingers a little is not what I bought, or couldn’t buy, nothing to do with the sheer materialism of it but behind that the aspect of letting go. “’Give up the ghost’ Rachel” I told myself and turned off the TV
Xo Rachel
Friday, August 21, 2009
Week One
Aug17 2009
The sound of metal against metal, as the wire hangers run across the rod of my new closet; it’s like nails on a chalk board. I pull off a pair of Rock&Republic skinny jeans from the hanger, toss them on the bed and hold the twisted cold wire in my hand the voice of the gorgeous Faye Dunaway playing the glamorous Joan Crawford in “Mommy Dearest”, rings out “No wire hangers ever!!!”. I scan from one side of the closest to the other, fighting the second nature I had developed, to turn around to find another rack of clothes behind me. The shirts visually considered are all less than satisfactory. I have found myself this past week with a repeating the desire in my head; “If only I had that one.” Each shirt, blouse, pair of denim, shoe and accessory reminds me of the ones I no longer have. As a matter of fact, there is hardly a moment of the day where I am not reminded of something left behind or give up. My car, my furniture, all gone, all used mainly to clear my credit cards.
I spent my first week in this city feeling deprived, alone and lost; no longer a motorist, having to rejoin the world of pedestrians and public transit users has been an interesting venture in itself. I find it amusing, not only as a woman but as a human how comforted and reassured we can make ourselves by material things. When it has all been stripped away, we are left only with the people in our lives for that comfort and reassurance. Me, having neither abundantly available I debate which would be more comforting now: my best friend from T.O. or my Donna Karan oversized cashmere shawl. “If Maslow were here” I thought, “he would grimace as my pyramid was a dishevelled as the pile of ‘rejected’ outfits on my bed”. Throwing the thought from my mind, along with a couple of shirts from their hangers to my bed, I close my eyes and randomly grab one. Knowing full well that regardless of which I chose I would not be happy with it. For all the times I have utilized the cliché “I have noting to wear”. It finally really felt like it. Damn I wish I had that Donna Karan shawl.
Finally decided on an ensemble, Skinny Jeans, Marciano gladiator sandals and seventies feeling white organza tank from Dolce&Gabanna, I walk down to Eau Claire market for the “Taste of Calgary”. It was a half hour walk but compared to testing my luck on transit again it was quick. I was reminded of Ashbridge’s Bay Park back home. Beyond that, the crowd comforted me the most. Still not able to shake the feeling of discontent with my choice of shirt and shoes it was consoling to know I could become lost in the crowd going un recognized by anyone. “It’s so different here” I mused to myself, “Calgary is so casual!” The scores of people hustled about the square, all at their own leisure. Their attire and demeanour so much more relaxed than what I am used to. I was amazed when I hadn’t been pushed, bumped or cut in front of while waiting for Thai. If only ‘Thai’ was the name of a guy I was waiting for. With no one to talk to I had to do something with my mouth. So I traveled the world Visiting: Greece, Istanbul, Africa, The Caribbean, returning from my time abroad sans photographs and souvenirs but with heart burn. I ask a passer by where I can buy some ginger extract ( works amazing for heartburn). “In this area?” He paused, “I don’t think the mall would have anywhere that sells it but you could try the convenience store inside.” My pulse quickened at the mention of the word “mall”. I think I might have even mouthed the word before I replied to him. “Where exactly?” I inquired vacantly. He pointed across the square to the small building I thought was office space. I thanked him airily and began floating through the crowd, which turned to storming through the crowd as my Toronto nature kicked in.
I reached the entrance, pulled the handle, stepped through the door and into… I laughed loudly and two ladies looked back at me. I was the crazy woman laughing aloud by herself. “This isn't a mall! It's a market.” I realized and I felt the muscles in my face contort in dissapointment. I moved through the desolate expanse, wondering what tragedy took place here. I ended up first at the food court which was a dead end. On my way back I passed by the convenience store, suddenly remembering why I was there in the first place I checked for my ginger extract. No avail. I returned the way I came in, “This can’t be what shopping is like everywhere in this city!” I thought. I stopped right before the doors and decided a chai latte would make me feel better. When I got to the till to order I discovered Calgary and Toronto… Not so different. I saw two uninterested eyes glance up at me through a pair of peroxide blonde, blunt bangs. Her acknowledgment was so quick I wouldn’t be able to tell you what color they were. Every movement, breath and gesture she made screamed out ‘I hate my job’. She did all but throw my coffee at me as she dropped my change on the counter, while my hand was outreached and she mustered what must have been the extent of her manners “Have a good day.” Accustomed to this I turned was about to leave, instead I looked back at her and said “I know smiling can give you wrinkles hun, but not as badly as that tanning bed you’re over using.” I guess we each pick and choose our battles.
The outburst of sass caused me to reconsider exiting the building. I chose to explore the other side of the market. It was all very quaint, mom and pop shops and the such, I rounded the hall and came across a studio for latin ballroom dance lessons. “Dance lessons?” I entertained the idea. “Well I would, but I don’t have a partner or the right shoes”. My eyes moved to the right to a pair of leopard print salsa heels displayed in the window. “I would almost prefer the shoes over the partner”. As my mind contemplated, my index finger briefly rubbed overtop of the raised numbers on my credit card…..
XoRachel
The sound of metal against metal, as the wire hangers run across the rod of my new closet; it’s like nails on a chalk board. I pull off a pair of Rock&Republic skinny jeans from the hanger, toss them on the bed and hold the twisted cold wire in my hand the voice of the gorgeous Faye Dunaway playing the glamorous Joan Crawford in “Mommy Dearest”, rings out “No wire hangers ever!!!”. I scan from one side of the closest to the other, fighting the second nature I had developed, to turn around to find another rack of clothes behind me. The shirts visually considered are all less than satisfactory. I have found myself this past week with a repeating the desire in my head; “If only I had that one.” Each shirt, blouse, pair of denim, shoe and accessory reminds me of the ones I no longer have. As a matter of fact, there is hardly a moment of the day where I am not reminded of something left behind or give up. My car, my furniture, all gone, all used mainly to clear my credit cards.
I spent my first week in this city feeling deprived, alone and lost; no longer a motorist, having to rejoin the world of pedestrians and public transit users has been an interesting venture in itself. I find it amusing, not only as a woman but as a human how comforted and reassured we can make ourselves by material things. When it has all been stripped away, we are left only with the people in our lives for that comfort and reassurance. Me, having neither abundantly available I debate which would be more comforting now: my best friend from T.O. or my Donna Karan oversized cashmere shawl. “If Maslow were here” I thought, “he would grimace as my pyramid was a dishevelled as the pile of ‘rejected’ outfits on my bed”. Throwing the thought from my mind, along with a couple of shirts from their hangers to my bed, I close my eyes and randomly grab one. Knowing full well that regardless of which I chose I would not be happy with it. For all the times I have utilized the cliché “I have noting to wear”. It finally really felt like it. Damn I wish I had that Donna Karan shawl.
Finally decided on an ensemble, Skinny Jeans, Marciano gladiator sandals and seventies feeling white organza tank from Dolce&Gabanna, I walk down to Eau Claire market for the “Taste of Calgary”. It was a half hour walk but compared to testing my luck on transit again it was quick. I was reminded of Ashbridge’s Bay Park back home. Beyond that, the crowd comforted me the most. Still not able to shake the feeling of discontent with my choice of shirt and shoes it was consoling to know I could become lost in the crowd going un recognized by anyone. “It’s so different here” I mused to myself, “Calgary is so casual!” The scores of people hustled about the square, all at their own leisure. Their attire and demeanour so much more relaxed than what I am used to. I was amazed when I hadn’t been pushed, bumped or cut in front of while waiting for Thai. If only ‘Thai’ was the name of a guy I was waiting for. With no one to talk to I had to do something with my mouth. So I traveled the world Visiting: Greece, Istanbul, Africa, The Caribbean, returning from my time abroad sans photographs and souvenirs but with heart burn. I ask a passer by where I can buy some ginger extract ( works amazing for heartburn). “In this area?” He paused, “I don’t think the mall would have anywhere that sells it but you could try the convenience store inside.” My pulse quickened at the mention of the word “mall”. I think I might have even mouthed the word before I replied to him. “Where exactly?” I inquired vacantly. He pointed across the square to the small building I thought was office space. I thanked him airily and began floating through the crowd, which turned to storming through the crowd as my Toronto nature kicked in.
I reached the entrance, pulled the handle, stepped through the door and into… I laughed loudly and two ladies looked back at me. I was the crazy woman laughing aloud by herself. “This isn't a mall! It's a market.” I realized and I felt the muscles in my face contort in dissapointment. I moved through the desolate expanse, wondering what tragedy took place here. I ended up first at the food court which was a dead end. On my way back I passed by the convenience store, suddenly remembering why I was there in the first place I checked for my ginger extract. No avail. I returned the way I came in, “This can’t be what shopping is like everywhere in this city!” I thought. I stopped right before the doors and decided a chai latte would make me feel better. When I got to the till to order I discovered Calgary and Toronto… Not so different. I saw two uninterested eyes glance up at me through a pair of peroxide blonde, blunt bangs. Her acknowledgment was so quick I wouldn’t be able to tell you what color they were. Every movement, breath and gesture she made screamed out ‘I hate my job’. She did all but throw my coffee at me as she dropped my change on the counter, while my hand was outreached and she mustered what must have been the extent of her manners “Have a good day.” Accustomed to this I turned was about to leave, instead I looked back at her and said “I know smiling can give you wrinkles hun, but not as badly as that tanning bed you’re over using.” I guess we each pick and choose our battles.
The outburst of sass caused me to reconsider exiting the building. I chose to explore the other side of the market. It was all very quaint, mom and pop shops and the such, I rounded the hall and came across a studio for latin ballroom dance lessons. “Dance lessons?” I entertained the idea. “Well I would, but I don’t have a partner or the right shoes”. My eyes moved to the right to a pair of leopard print salsa heels displayed in the window. “I would almost prefer the shoes over the partner”. As my mind contemplated, my index finger briefly rubbed overtop of the raised numbers on my credit card…..
XoRachel
Beginning to New Beginnings
Aug 3 2009
So I finally made the big move to back to Calgary, the city where I was born. What few memories I have of the city no longer serve me as I landed at Calgary international Airport and feel just as much as a tourist as anyone else there. For the last seventeen years of my life I have resided in Toronto, filled with culture, fashion, food and excitement. After years of living the life of a wanna-be socialite; spending, rather over-spending, then when I was maxed on my credit cards I could still usually find a way to spend more. I wouldn’t say I was out of control or that I had a problem… Not until four months ago anyways, when all of sudden I received a big slap in the face, no actually it was a kick in the butt, from the universe. I was working for a large law firm as a corporate/commercial legal assistant, when all of a sudden this thing called a “recession” actually effected me! Jobless and living in downtown Toronto, I lived ignorantly and unchanged by the situation. I shopped and socialized; even more so now as I had no worries of sleeping through the alarm or being late. My bed and I quickly rekindled a relationship of sleeping in till noon together. Now don’t get me wrong, I certainly still had prerogatives and priorities. For the first three months however, after sending out resume after resume, to no fruition, I still lived by a personal mantra of “Don’t even worry about it.”
Then eventually as all good things do certainly come to an end, my July credit card statements came. The bright red and bolded wording, while familiar to me, made my hands shake as I read. For this time I had no means of undoing the damage. The tiny savings I had slowly had been eaten away by rent, insurance and all the other necessities to barely maintain above the poverty line. Then one day, I can’t recall which exactly; the sky came down, like Atlas finally being overcome by the world on his shoulders. I was sitting on my couch, flipping channels with no direction, only to have the noise drown out my rapid thoughts. I stopped on “Oprah”, for only a second. She turned to her guest, Tonya Harding, (It was a show on past headline makers and where are they now.) She turned to her and said “You can’t be afraid to live your best life.” In that moment, that great “aha!” moment, I knew the changes that needed to be made.
Over the next month I sold my car, my furniture. All my gorgeous designer pillows, custom made end tables, luxury cottons, imported woven rugs and other home effects, accessories and electronics I had attained in the wild ravaging of what I will from here forth refer to as “my past life” gone. After my apartment was hollowed out just the skeletal walls remaining, I needed to attack the guts and heart of my “past life”. My closet, a beautiful four foot deep walk in closest. Three hanging shoe racks, 118 wooden hangers, a dresser full of foldable clothing and my winter wardrobe. I looked over my shoulder to see if the two suitcases I had to try to fit it all into were laughing at me. Each dress, skirt, blouse, pair of shoes I pulled down, desperately trying to fold it as small and tight as possible so that I could take more with me. Each garment like a child. How could I possibly leave any of them behind? My emotions took over, not unlike Uma Thurman in Kill Bill Vol. 1 & 2. I was enraged that I was there, doing what I was doing. What I had to do. So “I roared, I rampaged and I got bloody satisfaction.” With no consideration or hesitation my hands began tearing articles off hangers, Clothes out of drawers, throwing them with ferocity across the room into two piles. Keep and leave. When the hangers all hung bare, swinging back an fourth on the rails, somewhat hypnotically, what was now in my suitcases could barely fill a third of the space. Then my heart sank. MY SHOES! All forty three pairs still hung on the back wall and both my suitcases already full. I felt nauseous, completely petrified. When it was over, I could not believe what I had done. I had chosen only three pairs to come with me.
The next week I slowly said goodbye to my friends, many of them somewhat happy to see me leave. Only because of the shopping bags full of my dissected wardrobe that I was passing onto them. The usual lines were exchanged; I will call, visit, email, keep in touch, will miss you etc etc etc. On my last night in that city that cost me so much, there was a farewell gathering for me. At my request it was not held out at a lavish restaurant or high end club. Rather, at my best friend’s condo where no money was needed to be spent. I received many a raised eyebrow when I suggested it but I needed to start embracing my new life and by extension lifestyle.
The next morning I arrived at Lester B Pearson. Me and the entirety of my possessions, all that I had to show for myself stowed in the cargo of an airplane. Heading to a place where I knew no one, had nothing. I kept trying to remember those words from Oprah “don’t be afraid to live your best life”….I was in no mood though. “Give me a break Oprah.” I thought, “She still has her closet filled, hell she probably has an entire house just for closest space, girl never had to give away her designer heels.” The self- loathing and pity grew as I crossed the Canadian skies. Even at thrity thousand feet I still felt crushed by the weight of everything. After four hours I arrived in Calgary. I thought it clever when I glanced at my watch, then up at the clock by baggage claim. “Well not a bad start, I am already two hours ahead of myself.”
XO Rachel Reborn
So I finally made the big move to back to Calgary, the city where I was born. What few memories I have of the city no longer serve me as I landed at Calgary international Airport and feel just as much as a tourist as anyone else there. For the last seventeen years of my life I have resided in Toronto, filled with culture, fashion, food and excitement. After years of living the life of a wanna-be socialite; spending, rather over-spending, then when I was maxed on my credit cards I could still usually find a way to spend more. I wouldn’t say I was out of control or that I had a problem… Not until four months ago anyways, when all of sudden I received a big slap in the face, no actually it was a kick in the butt, from the universe. I was working for a large law firm as a corporate/commercial legal assistant, when all of a sudden this thing called a “recession” actually effected me! Jobless and living in downtown Toronto, I lived ignorantly and unchanged by the situation. I shopped and socialized; even more so now as I had no worries of sleeping through the alarm or being late. My bed and I quickly rekindled a relationship of sleeping in till noon together. Now don’t get me wrong, I certainly still had prerogatives and priorities. For the first three months however, after sending out resume after resume, to no fruition, I still lived by a personal mantra of “Don’t even worry about it.”
Then eventually as all good things do certainly come to an end, my July credit card statements came. The bright red and bolded wording, while familiar to me, made my hands shake as I read. For this time I had no means of undoing the damage. The tiny savings I had slowly had been eaten away by rent, insurance and all the other necessities to barely maintain above the poverty line. Then one day, I can’t recall which exactly; the sky came down, like Atlas finally being overcome by the world on his shoulders. I was sitting on my couch, flipping channels with no direction, only to have the noise drown out my rapid thoughts. I stopped on “Oprah”, for only a second. She turned to her guest, Tonya Harding, (It was a show on past headline makers and where are they now.) She turned to her and said “You can’t be afraid to live your best life.” In that moment, that great “aha!” moment, I knew the changes that needed to be made.
Over the next month I sold my car, my furniture. All my gorgeous designer pillows, custom made end tables, luxury cottons, imported woven rugs and other home effects, accessories and electronics I had attained in the wild ravaging of what I will from here forth refer to as “my past life” gone. After my apartment was hollowed out just the skeletal walls remaining, I needed to attack the guts and heart of my “past life”. My closet, a beautiful four foot deep walk in closest. Three hanging shoe racks, 118 wooden hangers, a dresser full of foldable clothing and my winter wardrobe. I looked over my shoulder to see if the two suitcases I had to try to fit it all into were laughing at me. Each dress, skirt, blouse, pair of shoes I pulled down, desperately trying to fold it as small and tight as possible so that I could take more with me. Each garment like a child. How could I possibly leave any of them behind? My emotions took over, not unlike Uma Thurman in Kill Bill Vol. 1 & 2. I was enraged that I was there, doing what I was doing. What I had to do. So “I roared, I rampaged and I got bloody satisfaction.” With no consideration or hesitation my hands began tearing articles off hangers, Clothes out of drawers, throwing them with ferocity across the room into two piles. Keep and leave. When the hangers all hung bare, swinging back an fourth on the rails, somewhat hypnotically, what was now in my suitcases could barely fill a third of the space. Then my heart sank. MY SHOES! All forty three pairs still hung on the back wall and both my suitcases already full. I felt nauseous, completely petrified. When it was over, I could not believe what I had done. I had chosen only three pairs to come with me.
The next week I slowly said goodbye to my friends, many of them somewhat happy to see me leave. Only because of the shopping bags full of my dissected wardrobe that I was passing onto them. The usual lines were exchanged; I will call, visit, email, keep in touch, will miss you etc etc etc. On my last night in that city that cost me so much, there was a farewell gathering for me. At my request it was not held out at a lavish restaurant or high end club. Rather, at my best friend’s condo where no money was needed to be spent. I received many a raised eyebrow when I suggested it but I needed to start embracing my new life and by extension lifestyle.
The next morning I arrived at Lester B Pearson. Me and the entirety of my possessions, all that I had to show for myself stowed in the cargo of an airplane. Heading to a place where I knew no one, had nothing. I kept trying to remember those words from Oprah “don’t be afraid to live your best life”….I was in no mood though. “Give me a break Oprah.” I thought, “She still has her closet filled, hell she probably has an entire house just for closest space, girl never had to give away her designer heels.” The self- loathing and pity grew as I crossed the Canadian skies. Even at thrity thousand feet I still felt crushed by the weight of everything. After four hours I arrived in Calgary. I thought it clever when I glanced at my watch, then up at the clock by baggage claim. “Well not a bad start, I am already two hours ahead of myself.”
XO Rachel Reborn
Prologue
The Following notes will be a written account of my life and experiences in Calgary. Hopefully people will feel a connection and comment, provide advice and feedback in any form. I have always had aspirations to be a journalist however, at this point in my life I am flagrantly distant from that path. The Limbo I have lived my life in for the past 5 years has been nothing if wreckless... It was amazing. This will be my journey to see if I can find that joy again by other means.
Xo Rachel
Xo Rachel
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