The Spineless Man with Character

There once was a man everyone called Jack

All he could spew during times of crisis was yickety yack

He pretended to be a man of virtue

While he didn't really have a clue.

He educated himself to appear to be a better man

His new colleagues cheered him on and said “Yes you can”.

He walked amongst pedestrians with his head held up high

Yet he was clueless to his dearest friend's woeful cries.

“I am a person of honour and integrity” he decreed

Apparently he loved his wife but longed to be freed

When convenient he was drawn to the beautiful elusive flame

But was unable to conquer, control and ultimately tame.

Face the truth, I am everywhere she said

For you my sweet, I'm glad we never wed.

Live your life with shallow honour and dread

Sleep with the bitter corpse in your diseased bed.

The man called Jack only protected himself during an attack

He continued to pretend, fool and say yickety yack.

She said, live your life in shades of black

Walk through a polluted cloud of dreams with the character you lack.

I release you to the powerful sky, and wait patiently 

for justice and payback.

The Bitch in Black...Intro. to Botox Face

A couple of years ago, I landed this gig job working for the self proclaimed number one PR firm in the City called WLPR. I landed the coveted job of Assistant to Wanda Laufman. What appeared to be a high profile job of Assistant to the President, was really code for "I Own Your Ass 24/7". It was a 3 month stint that felt like an eternity in the land of this self absorbed woman who made Anna Wintour aka Meryl Streep's character in The Devil Wears Prada, look like a walk in the park next to this she devil.

Okay some fun facts about Wanda Laufman, who is a "self made" entrepreneur, who "didn't" marry a successful lawyer when she started her business from the "ground up" and made it on her "own". She's only in her mid forties (but looks much older), and desperately trying to hold onto her youth via way too much Botox, resulting in the bloated apple doll effect. For this reason, I choose to refer to her as Botox Face.

Botox Face takes a great deal of pride in her appearance, some would even say perhaps a tad vain. Her office consists of framed photos of herself. You see BF does a lot of shameless self promotion under the guise of "inspiring" and "empowering" women at speaking engagements, while being a domineering, exploitative diva in her insulated underworld she calls a company. In public and on TV, she spews insincerity from her pores and says thing like, "I believe in work/life integration". Translation, you are on my beckon call even if you just put in a 12 hour day, without lunch, possibly without dinner and commuted 2 hours to get to work and back, are dead on your feet, but you have a working phone, which she refuses to pay for because it's your personal phone that you only use for her calls, emails and texts and you have to pay for it anyway! So just because she rakes in $250K a year, why should she pay $40 for your phone and how dare you even ask!

Appearances are extremely important for BF, who lives on adrenalin, insecurity and a tall non-fat iced caramel macchiato. BF gets her hair styled every couple of days at a high end salon located two doors down. Her hairstyle of choice is rat's nest on top followed by stringy strands of overly bleached blonde hair at the bottom (because you know she started the Ombre look), complete with Carrie Bradshaw curls from 2003! No-one at the salon dared to tell BF that her hair was fried and that she needed to stop immediately!!! BF insisted that internal meetings with her selected minions employees be held at the salon, while she was getting her hair done, because if you weren't already high on life from being in the orbit of BF, well you may as well get high on the fumes of the chemicals seeping into her shrinking brain.

BF wears expensive designer clothes but only in black. A few magazines would photograph her collection of clothes in black, black and more black with headings like, "A Look at Wanda's Coveted Closet" or "Don't Be Jealous of My Closet".  The only colours allowed in her bleak world, belong on her feet, in her 6" stilettos, which she can barely walk in without looking like she's going to topple over on her face and let the air out!

BF's handbag of choice is a black Birkin bag, the ultimate status symbol, but she doesn't like to carry it herself. She would call me from her BlackBerry from the parking lot, located literally across the street, and order me to carry her Birkin bag, and at the time her brand new puppy LoKiEE*. I would run outside, cross the busy intersection (no traffic light) with cars whizzing by to get her Birkin and the pup, and proceed to walk a few steps behind her majesty as she entered the premises, while legions of gratefully employed 20 somethings lowered their gaze as she walked by them.

All hail to Queen Botox Face and heir to the throne Prince LoKiEE*!

Moody Girl Out.

Beating Heart, Fresh Start

Greetings & Salutations! It has been almost 3 years since I posted anything, and for that my sincerest apologies. It has been a tumultuous couple of years that have thrown me in many directions with a lot of unexpected changes...some good, some bad, a little tragic at times, but I'm still here. Bursts of unexpected laughter got me through a lot, and gave me a lifeline to hold onto while being in survival mode, rendering everything else to the back burner. 

There are no guarantees in life, your world can be ripped apart at a moment's notice. Sometimes one traumatic incident isn't what is thrown at you, but multiple things all at once from a merciless universe. Anyway, you know what 'they' say, "If it doesn't kill you, it makes you stronger". During hard times and a cruel sky, hope and faith for a brighter tomorrow prevailed and it still does. I'm back to share my thoughts once again, with a sometimes non linear timeline, and a dose of my moody sense of humour here and there...

The heart is a complex and wonderful little organ which keeps us alive by pumping blood in our veins. It allows us to breathe freely, which in turn keeps us healthy and alive. Any blockages in one or more artery can suddenly alter everything. Life as you know it is changed forever.

Heart surgeons are life savers. Through modern science and technological advancements, they are able to take arteries from other parts of the body and transplant them elsewhere, in order to bypass the blockages and allow the blood to flow freely once again. A second chance is given to begin to heal physically and emotionally with hopes to resume life one day at a time, and being thankful for every breath that is taken.

The interesting thing is...having open heart surgery doesn't mean that your heart will finally be open, where the blockages prevented not only the blood from flowing but perhaps the love from flowing. The irony is that one can have open heart surgery, have their chest ripped apart, put back together again and the heart can remain closed.

The person you stood by during the most difficult time in their life, holding their hand, hoping and praying for their survival and recovery, providing love and hope in their time of need, can shut you out of their life with no warning. Pre-surgery The Complicator and I got so very complicated. Post surgery, it appears that my relationship is becoming well... un-complicated.

I guess the heart wants what it wants, when it wants...

Moody Girl Out.

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.