Razzamatzz! Jazzamatazz!

When you're feeling down and out and feel stuck in a rut, nothing picks you up like going to a good live show (it works for me). Of course this only works if all the planets are aligned, a clear weather forecast in effect (for fear of wrecking the hair). When you don't feel like getting dressed up for a night out, you can trick the brain by looking good which can transpire into feeling good. In other words pick your favourite outfit that never lets you down no matter how you are feeling, even after a heavy meal the night before. In this case, I opted for a basic black outfit ensemble (simple top & flirty skirt) with my tall Kenneth Cole wedge boots. My hair was straight and sleek, I had subtle make up accompanied with red lipstick for a dash of colour and minimal silver jewellery.

Of course a night like this can't be complete without having your favourite music aficionados accompanying you (in this case it was my sister Thalia and The Complicator). Sometimes, it's just nice to have a small group with you to enjoy the music without the hassle of "When's the main act coming on? What kind of music is it?" You catch my drift... This kind of show is for the serious lovers of of  jazz, neo-soul and a touch of hip hop blended with live musicians for a magical evening of music for the soul. There is no time to explain this to friends who love Top 40 (I won't mention any names in particular - Karina).

A few weeks ago I had the distinct pleasure of seeing the mega talented Jose James perform at The Great Hall in Toronto. This was my third time seeing him perform live and he didn't disappoint. But first let me set the scene. It was a damp, yet unusually mild Friday night in March (so much for the weather forecast, my sleek and straight hair turned into wavy hair. I embraced the wave at least it was frizz free). Thalia and I decided to go together and meet The Complicator at the venue. Thalia looked like a dangerously, beautiful vixen and had her no fail outfit on (we both chose black). We were both in a really good mood and there was no pressure to get to the venue, as we were arriving separately from The Complicator.

When we arrived at The Great Hall, the mood was set by other enthusiastic music lovers, an array of low key, cool, sophisticated hipsters (and a few oldsters, I say that with love). Now there's nothing that great about The Great Hall aesthetically other than the name, (to be honest, it needs a little love). I get that's it a Toronto staple, but it needs a bit of a face lift if you know what I mean. Anyway, Thalia and I walked in and all eyes were locked on us. (A good feeling, just what the doctor ordered). We both knew this was going to be a wonderful night, you could just feel it in the air. The Complicator joined us later in the evening and we were grooving to the hypnotic tunes of the DJ before the show and having a great time. The energy was magnetic, everyone was there to have a good time. No out of place drunk losers there to make a scene (thank goodness), just a peaceful, fun loving group of people.

Not only did we have the benefit of enjoying the mesmerizing sounds of Toronto's gems, DJ Paul E. Lopes and DJ John Kong throughout the the night along with Jose James of course. But the opening act Rinse the Algorithm turned out to be a delightful surprise. This experimental jazz quartet were a real treat to watch as they were superbly talented. They should be headlining their own show, they were that good. It's been a while since an opening act had caught my attention like that. Imagine my reaction when I found out they weren't from NYC (they had that cool Brooklyn look) but actually from Toronto, okay I was wrong. (For the record there are talented musicians in Toronto also).

The night was off to an amazing start, and then when Jose James came on, the night transcended into outer orbit territory with his new band and new style for this particular CD. The musicians almost upstaged Jose James at one point, the drummer was so passionate that he practically stole the show. I felt my mood lift and was transported into another world. Everything that had weighed me down during the week had disappeared. I looked over at The Complicator and he was grooving in his usual way. I looked over at Thalia and she was having a good time. A perfect night indeed, the kind that is so few and far between like a blue moon. But when it comes around you have to enjoy the moment and bask in its light as it will quickly pass.

Moody Girl Out.

Networking is Not Working

Trying to switch careers and enter a new field was an incredibly ambitious idea on my part, especially with record high unemployment. Searching for a new job is a painstakingly difficult task and a full time job in itself. My good friend Lily keeps reminding me of the job market statistics, and how 90% of the job market is hidden. Well, where the hell is it hidden, on a different planet? In a last ditch effort to find a new job, I decided to explore the hidden market in hopes of a positive outcome via a non traditional route.

A couple months ago at my friend Mariya's place, I was introduced to Mariya’s friends Floyd & Didi. Mariya mentioned to Floyd that I was looking to change careers and we had a nice conversation about Floyd's contacts that I could utilize. Floyd recommended that I contact him on Linked-In and that I could access all his contacts. I was so excited about my new contact and the possibilities of this new contact’s contacts.

Well Floyd's first, hugely exaggerated contact turned out to be this insipid man called David Davyd (yeah, creative name) who seemed nice virtually through email contact, until my actual phone conversation. Keep in mind this was not supposed to be a job interview but merely a connection that could point me in the right direction.  It was supposed to be a friendly, casual phone conversation with the hopes of setting up a meeting. The interview (full on) turned into the interrogation from hell. This moron wanted every aspect of my life and back tracked all the way to high school, when I couldn't remember what I ate for dinner last night. I was extremely frustrated and disappointed with this contact. I had half the mind to tell him off, but I didn't.

The next day I sent a short, diplomatic email to Floyd saying his contact didn't pan out and thanked him for thinking of me. Imagine my surprise when I got scolded via email by Floyd about how I didn't handle David Davyd properly. (What? Oh no you didn’t!) I was thinking to myself.  I wasn’t going to send a long winded email to Floyd stating what an ass---- his contact was to me. Secondly I don't even know Floyd, so why was he scolding me under the guise of helping me? Suffice to say, that networking episode not only didn't pan out but succeeded in getting me riled up by two complete strangers! I'm not sure if Mariya was aware that her friend Floyd turned out to be useless (but I wasn't about to say anything). On a separate note, I did notice Floyd had changed his Linked-In picture, to try to appear less geeky than the last pic. News flash, it doesn’t work Floyd!

My next "networking" mission was through my Russian friend Karina. Every time, I would speak with Karina, she would ask me the same thing. "How is job search going?" "Are you on Linked-In? Connect with me so you can access my network". I did connect with her on Linked-In, only to discover that she kept avoiding “accepting me” as a contact for weeks. When I mentioned this to Karina, she shrugged it off as a “technical issue” and offered herself up as a reference instead.

A few weeks after that, I had an interview at a marketing agency downtown and had provided the company with my reference list which included Karina's name (a marketing and finance graduate) with her place of employment and contact number. Well the next day I got a call from the employer saying they were unable to check my second reference as the contact I provided was no longer with the company, and for this reason they decided to go with someone more reliable. Gee whiz, thanks Karina!

Feeling utterly embarrassed and livid at Karina for not giving me a heads up about this, I decided to send her an email instead of yelling at her over the phone and getting yelled back at by her in Russian (she reverts to her mother tongue when she's angry. (Not fair, as I don’t speak Russian).

Hi Karina,

Thank you so much for your offer for me to list you as a personal reference.  I can't thank you enough for willing to help me out like this. Someone with your skill set and education is exactly what I need on my reference list.

A couple of days ago, my potential employer tried to reach you at Global Source Marketing at the phone extension you had provided, and couldn't reach you but someone called Harold Baxter.  Harold apparently had no idea who you were and my potential employer was left puzzled. Apparently after a few enquiries, they were able to ascertain that you are no longer employed with Global Source Marketing and had apparently quit a few weeks ago and therefore were unable to verify my reference.

I know we haven't spoken in two weeks, but you could have given me a little indication about you planning on leaving the job you told me to list as a reference.  Well, I didn't get the job after all, I'm sure it had nothing to do with my references, so please don't feel bad.

Hope you're well. 

Love, MG.

I finally received a reply from Karina after a couple of days:

Oh, sorry sweetie, I changed jobs, I was going to tell you when I saw you. Don't worry, those people are  "ass----s", you can do better. Let's go out this weekend. Love, Karina xoxoxo

Anyway, chasing my contacts for their contacts or contacts of contacts had proven to be futile and a big waste of time for me. It turned an already frustrating situation into an even more exasperating one, by people in my inner and outer orbit wasting my time with futile goose chases, under the guise of helping me. I'm happy to say that since the networking debacle, I am now gainfully employed again :) It had nothing to do with networking. (Details to come later, &/or when I'm fed up with this position!)

Moody Girl Out.  

Moody Blues, New Shoes

I was having one of those days where nothing had gone right since I woke up. It was one hurdle after another today keeping me on my toes and stress levels high. The weather mimicked my melancholy mood with dark skies and rain (kind of like November weather). I thought perhaps a full moon was looming judging by the way technology and people were acting today. Basically stuff just wasn't going the way it was planned earlier in the week. Then I remembered that Mercury is in retrograde which explains why nothing is going forward and and everything is stalled.

It was just a weird day and a somewhat unpleasant one. I'm glad it's almost over. I woke up with such optimism and had hopes of hearing some much delayed good news, the kind of news that could propel me into fast forward at lightning speed. But alas, it didn't happen, in fact it was putting out non stop fires all day long. In the evening, I finally had to step outside in the rain to put out the inner fire and er, run end of the month errands as it is after all Leap Day and tomorrow is March. Strangely enough being in the rain helped, as if washing away the disappointment of the day. When I returned home, I was feeling calm.

I took a hot shower, washed my hair and blow dried it straight and sleek (frizzy hair makes me look angry). I  decided to change my mood by changing my clothes (something I've never done before), usually when I'm feeling like this, I just want to get into some comfy, cozy clothes for an anticipated carb high on the couch. But I talked myself out of this by looking in the mirror with my bright berry lips (I should wear this lipstick more often, my teeth look amazingly white).  I opened my closet and was so proud of the colour coordinated clothes neatly hanging in unison on the hangers, instead of the pile that had slid off the hangers onto the floor only to be hung in the wrong section and then forgotten about. I was reminded of how successful "Project Closet" was this past weekend. I was able to see so many familiar but new clothes, it was if my clothes were speaking to me, "Wear me". After picking out a sexy blue dress and trying it on, I was pleased that it fit (always a bonus). After going through the previously forgotten clothes of my new improved closet, my eyes drifted towards a shiny new shoe box with a pair of Nine West black suede ankle boots with a chunky high heel and a snazzy gold zipper, it looked and felt luxurious. I put on the boots and strutted around in my bedroom with some cool tunes and the next thing I knew I was feeling good :)

All of a sudden I was a mad yet fashionable scientist congratulating myself with this unexpected yet successful experiment that distracted me from my woes and most importantly the fridge. I mean I'm not in a carb coma on the couch, mindlessly changing channels and unable to move. (Although my new favourite show Revenge is on later tonight, I love Madeline Stowe).

As the endorphins were released while twirling around like a crazed whirling dervish, it occurred to me that one of my favourite singer's, Jose James is in town this Friday. This means that I have the perfect opportunity to wear my sexy ensemble for a little visual love from strangers, while I forget about all my troubles, as I groove to Jose's soulful voice at The Great Hall. Perfect! That's the plan! I better get The Complicator on alert to have his bat mobile ready for Friday night, as it's time to turn the moody blues into some moody grooving with my new shoes or rather boots (you know what I mean!)

Moody Girl Out.

Foolish Heart, Stop & Start

Flashback (Moody Girl Style)

It was February 2009 and the plan was to spend the entire day/evening with The Complicator on Valentine’s Day. I dressed up for the occasion and wore a lovely red ruffle chiffon top with a crushed velvet chocolate brown skirt, paired with my tall, sleek toffee leather boots. I had a great hair day, smooth with just enough body for that flirty look, with my killer red lipstick, gold accessories, dark glasses and my wool winter coat for this particularly cold but sunny day. The Complicator picked me up in his new Mercedes and we drove around the city. He said he wanted to surprise me and I was super excited, since surprises are so few and far between with him. My heart was filled with hope until we arrived at The Gladstone for The Erotic Arts and Crafts Fair.  I reluctantly got out of the car at The Complicator’s insistence (my heart sank), but I went along with it and tried to feign interest in the amateur arts & crafts created in the name of love or rather sex. I mean it would be a fun thing to do if it was your first year together on V Day or if you’re a hipster with a $20 budget for Valentine’s Day. The Complicator insisted on buying me my V Day presents from there, and I ended up with an extra, extra small lime green shirt (that was tight back then) with a red dragon on it and a pair of fuzzy red handcuffs (that broke as soon as we got to the car), oh wait there was a feather tickler too. I thought to myself, great surprise, what’s next or is this it?

After frequenting a few art galleries that had nothing to do with me on this particular occasion, I was wondering if the surprise was coming up. As the day turned into evening, I sadly realized that The Complicator failed to make dinner reservations on Valentine’s Day. I remember stopping at a few places and being told that the restaurant was completely booked, how embarrassing. The surprises kept on coming! If only The Complicator had put just a little thought into it! Anyway, my hunger pangs were increasing as we continued to drive around. When my hunger grumbles turned into loud growls and I couldn’t take it anymore, I told The Complicator that it be would be okay with me to go to a familiar place where we would be sure to get a seat. Our friend who owns Sambuca and (now) Valens had opened up a place in the village and I figured since we were close by, why not drop by to see the new space, Sambuca on Church. By the time we arrived at the restaurant, there was a massive line up outside and full to the max on the inside. Surprise! I was wrong! The Complicator started getting visibly agitated so I had no choice but to take control. I walked up to the front of the line and told the hostess to let Kandar, (the owner) know that The Complicator and I were here for dinner and would really appreciate a table. I was quite pleased with myself and was hoping for a nod of approval from The Complicator, instead I got scolded, “I can’t believe you just did that”. After a few minutes the hostess returned and showed us to our table. I walked in with my head up high and he looked utterly embarrassed.

Once we were comfortably seated, I looked around to see how other women were dressed, (since I looked marvellous), then it occurred to me that I was the only woman in the restaurant and instead was getting a few jealous looks from other men. Did I mention that Sambuca on Church is located in the gay village? Regardless, we had an unconventional Valentine’s Day. It’s kind of funny when I think about it now. Hey at least we had dinner and it was a fantastic dinner. I playfully said to The Complicator, “You didn’t wish me Happy Valentine’s Day”, and he quickly muttered it to me, over the blaring music at the restaurant. I thought to myself, “Yep, eat your heart out men, this fool is with me”. J

While we were driving around after dinner, I drifted into my own thoughts while listening to the enchanting sounds of Nicola Conte’s Rituals. I was thinking to myself is it too much to ask for the person you’re with to articulate how they feel about you even if it seems redundant. I wasn’t expecting a present from Tiffany & Co. or to be whisked away for a romantic weekend (although I would have been very impressed). All I really wanted was to hear some heartfelt words.  When I checked my phone, I saw that I had a voicemail message from Grant Bedford, our mutual friend (who just happens to be dreamy). Anyway, he had received the musical birthday card that I had sent him and was genuinely touched that I remembered his birthday. I had written a note in the card telling him that Thievery Corporation was playing later in the month and that he should also come. In the message to me, he confirmed that he would be there. At the end of the message, in his deep voice he said, “Oh, um by the way, Happy Valentine’s Day” and my heart melted and a gigantic grin took over my face, as I drifted further into my thoughts.

Later I found out that Grant Bedford didn’t even know who Thievery Corporation was, but came to the show anyway. Hmmm, interesting! (Grant Bedford and I went to the show together that night, but hey that’s another blog). By the way, I saved that particular voicemail message :) Sometimes it’s not always about who says Happy Valentine’s Day, but rather how it’s said that makes all the difference!

Moody Girl Out.

Happily Never After

When a super couple like Seal and Heidi Klum can't make it after seven years of marriage. What possible hope do the rest of us have in the real world? After all this was a seemingly "perfect" couple on the outside who seemed to have so much fun together and renewed their wedding vows every year. They seemed so in-sync with each other, with love oozing from their pores. They had it all, beauty, talent, multiple homes, an abundance of wealth, jet setting around the world with their celebrity friends and they shared a whole bunch of children. So if this couple is ending things, what chance do us mere mortals have at a really fulfilling relationship on planet earth?

It got me thinking of my own relationship with The Complicator, after being together for more than a decade, are we really together in the real sense of the word? He has his own house and I have my own place. We have separate lives and come together when we need to or rather when we want to. It got me thinking about what we really share. We don't share real estate, children or stuff, so do experiences and memories count? The reason I dubbed him The Complicator for my blogs is that he simply complicates things without realizing it or does he do this deliberately to keep me stranded in time, or stuck in a loop? Some would say that this is the ideal relationship for the 21st century, we have an advantage with our non fat relationship without the usual day to day drudgery that tends to bring some couples down after a long time. We have funny moments together and can act like silly kids when we're alone. Of course this is contrasted by my moody moments and The Complicator's short fuse. Our individual homes protect us from each other when we get on each other's nerves and serves as a safe haven when we need to be alone to recharge. This is my reality, it's far from perfect, maybe even flawed depending on the opinion but we're still together - separate but together.

My friend Jenny and her partner George have been together for over fifteen years, (she met him when she was very young). When you see them together, they seem completely different from one another. It has nothing to with their cultural backgrounds, Jenny is of Chinese descent and George is eastern European. Jenny has a lot of testosterone and is the opposite of feminine. She loves to dress in jeans, T-shirts, biker boots, (all the time) and doesn't believe in styling her hair and wearing make up. Jenny can be loud and abrasive at times and is a lot of fun to be around. She is fascinated with me and Thalia (we're all friends), she calls us "girly girls". George is quiet, serious and strong. He tends to get into long winded conversations with anyone who will listen. I've never seem him laugh at any jokes and he always looks slightly puzzled or slightly amused by the rest of us while secretly judging us. But for some reason these two stick it out together. They are clearly opposites and Jenny gets annoyed by George a lot, but there is love beneath the surface.

My friend Shabana and her husband Lou are not only odd people individually, but are even more peculiar as a couple. They rarely venture out together with other couples and tend to spend a lot of time together when Lou is in town (he travels a lot). I've known Shabana for a really long time and over the years, she's gone from cool to just fool, she's a self proclaimed nerd. I don't have much to say about her husband Lou as I've seen him a total of five times since they've been married (including their wedding). When I have seen Lou at their house, he gives off a possessive, controlling vibe, with a side order of repressed anger. Together they're just a weird couple who appear to live very different lives under the guise of marriage. Neither one really gets what the other one is about (or doesn't care). When Shabana isn't hiding under a rock, she ventures out sans Lou (when he's out of town). Being around them is extremely uncomfortable as their conversations are laced with sharp barbs at one another. Some how this strange couple are still together and I'm not sure about love but there is like between the two.

Thalia and her husband Jared...actually if I analyze their marriage in print Thalia will kill me... Love comes in all forms and shapes, it's not perfect like it's made out to be by magazines about celebrities or famous people. No-one really knows what goes on behind closed doors. Love doesn't always meet our expectations and can often be filled with disappointment. However, every time I hear one of my favourite singers Jose James croon effortlessly in the sublimely romantic song Love (like right now), it fills my heart with hope and what else L.O.V.E. :)

Moody Girl Out.

The Flu Fighters

Well January started off with a bang in terms of renewed hope, energy and optimism for the upcoming year. Then out of the blue, the cold/flu took everyone in my path down including me. Yeah, the flu shot, supplements, lots of sleep and a healthy diet didn't help. Even my one workout of the month didn't prevent me from getting sick. I was feeling unusually upbeat for the month of January, that even the dull, grey skies  and the frigid temperatures couldn't hinder my spirit. Well that was short lived...

A couple of weeks ago after feeling great at the end of the week, I woke up one Saturday morning with a tickle in my throat, I did everything I could to stop this from becoming more than a tickle, but deep down I knew it was going to take me down eventually. Later that evening I had dinner plans to celebrate my best gal pal Lily's birthday and had been looking forward to it all week. We both dressed up and had a fantastic dinner at Sambuca (my other favourite restaurant). For a few hours, I was able to trick my brain into believing that the tickle in my throat wasn't there.

By Monday I was down, I had all the artillery needed to combat this virus, chicken soup, kleenex, pajamas, my fluffy robe, water, flat ginger ale and Ibuprofen. I was thinking so much for my dynamic January plans. I had to cancel all my plans for later in the week, dinner with my friend Isabella - turns out she was sick and so were her kids. Had to cancel with my friend Mariya - she was sick too. My sister Thalia and her husband Jared were sick and were both working from home. So not only were they fighting a virus but eventually with each other over trivial things, Thalia felt compelled to text me a play by play:

Text message 1 -  "So sick, weak and tired, but am working on the computer".
Text message 2 - "Coughing and sneezing for hours, need bread, so sick but have so much work to do".
Text message 3 - "Jared left all the mugs on the coffee table and made a mess in the kitchen :( ".
Text message 4 - "So tired, don't have the energy to make tea, but have so much work to do. You'd think just once Jared would baby me a bit, need TLC".

These types of texts continued for about a week, my text response was the same every time, "Aww too bad honey, hope you feel better soon. I'm sick too, look and feel like hell."

During the middle of the week, The Complicator brought me some cold medicine at my request that came complete with an unsolicited pep talk at the most inopportune time about how I was being a "little puppy" and that I was actually fine. The Complicator said, "Why are your eyes red?" I replied, "Er, because I'm sick, hence the request for the cold meds". I was then told to toughen up. He then started nattering about how I should wear a plastic garbage bag and start running on the treadmill. I may have been on drugs but he was clearly delusional. Some how he seemed to magically ignore the sneezing, the coughing and me sprawled out on the couch in a drug induced coma. No TLC, just tough love is what I got, I couldn't wait for him to leave so that I could rest without the extra chatter.

My mum was calling me every hour on the hour to make sure I wasn't dead, which was comforting and  annoying at the same time. When I would reluctantly answer the phone, I could hear my dad yelling in the background, "Why didn't she get the flu shot, I told her to get the flu shot". I softly whispered, "Mum, can you tell Dad I did get the flu shot".

Just as I got my mum off the phone (again), I mistakenly answered the phone thinking it was my mum calling back and it turned out to be my friend Professor Langley Tate (who has a nauseatingly soft spot for me). I had been avoiding his calls for a few weeks, and was texting him knowing full well he doesn't know how to text. Professor Langley Tate and I used to work together eons ago (before he was a professor) and have been friends ever since. He seems to be fascinated with everything I do, say, write, read and I'm the portal for his otherwise safe existence. I can make him laugh easily about anything and everything, sometimes even cheekily poking fun at his "academic comments" which he is clearly oblivious to. He is a nice person, but sometimes gets on my nerves.

This was a bit of our conversation:

Professor Langley Tate: "What's been going on, tell me everything".

Me: "Well, as you can probably tell I'm sick, (cough, cough, sneeze, sneeze, cough)".

Professor Langley Tate: "Well you just need a dose of Dr. Tate's chicken soup. I'll just have to stop by with some".

Me: "No thanks, I already made some and The Complicator has been checking in on me".

Professor Langley Tate: "Wow, you make your own chicken soup too? I would love to try your chicken soup sometime".

Me (Perturbed): "I don't crave chicken soup on a regular basis Langley, I only make it for myself when I'm sick, the only other person I make chicken soup for is Thalia".

Professor Langley Tate: "I was really hoping to see you over the holidays".

Me (Annoyed): "Langley, I barely had time to come up for air with all the family get togethers, I'll see you in the spring, I have to catch up with some of my other friends first".

When I finally got Professor Langley Tate off the phone, I put my phone on silent, took my cold medicine, applied Vicks on my throat and chest (that's the best), used my menthol inhaler, took my Ibuprofen and tried to rest. I figured answering the phone was just counter productive to my recovery.

After a few days, once I was back to my cheerful moody self, I decided to weigh myself. If anything had come out of this awful week, it had to be weight loss right? Wrong! Apparently, I was a few pounds up. Drats! Perhaps a little too much bread with my chicken soup!

Moody Girl Out.