Wednesday, December 31, 2008

New Day

I'm pleased to say that Christmas Day was not the embarrassment I'd anticipated. While I wasn't exactly imaginative with gifts this year, I settled for practical and practical was appreciated. Thank you. Come again. In return, Santa's past exuberance was muted this year, as it should be, given the times. I got what I asked for and nothing more. This is good. Time to live within our means.

I won't be sad to draw a line under 2008. It has not been the easiest year for me. I've struggled with adjusting to my new environment (I moved to smalltown, Canada end of 2007 from London, UK). I let depression take hold and gave the symptoms too much credence instead of focusing on the goal. In some ways I realise I had to walk that path if I was to make this move a longterm decision; build from the ground up and put down solid foundations based on true appreciation for the kind of re-invention only new beginnings of this sort can offer (if you allow them to).

I've learnt to consume my friendships from back home with the long distance mentality I was lacking before. I continue to look for my niche here and it has become the adventure I needed it to be. While I wouldn't go as far as to say that I look forward to the new twists and turns the future has to offer, I no longer fear them. This time round, I intend to work with the 'black dog' of endurance as opposed to against him.

My troubles however pale in comparison to those of my friends. Two little children were lost in 2008 and I want to acknowledge them today as they now only live on in memory. No parent should have to bury a child. I wish them love, light and strength.

2009 doesn't exactly bode well for anyone but for those who have lost it brings the time that so many people assure you heals. And time does heal. You are never the same person, the light often goes out forever but stark as it sounds, fact is that life goes on for the living and eventually you do join their ranks even if you are just paying lip service.

Next year - but a few hours away, will I hope bring the world to it's senses. The auto bail out in the US is ridiculous to say the least and a colossal waste of money that should be put towards a combination of helping families keep afloat while the rest goes towards training and research into a more sustainable, renewable industry-led economy. This goes for Europe too. Of course none of this matters if we don't get the balance right for the environment. This is not Jurassic Park, but nature is indiscriminate when it comes to survival of the fittest and in this case the fittest cheated. Sadly we all know what happens to cheats.

I don't want to end on a negative note because as humans we have the ability to reason. I put my trust in that human reasoning and science. I have high hopes for the future and look forward to the dawning of a new era for us all.

Tuesday, December 23, 2008

Hey! Mr. Grinch, Over Here!

I can't remember the last time I was this unprepared for Christmas . I love Christmas, really I do. I love the notion of it because in reality after the presents are unwrapped it's well, a little bit boring. Then the shops being closed and everyone sleeping on couches around the house begins to inwardly irritate me. Obviously, I'm blessed with having the family around all the time and for those that don't then Christmas must take on a really special meaning. As it should. Perhaps I should spent more time away from the family in the run up to these holidays. Food for thought.

That's the other thing. Food. I have to be in the right mood to cook. When I am - it's magic. Otherwise I'd be just as happy spooning cold baked beans straight from the tin. This year happily we're off to the in-laws and they always put on a good spread. I'll help with the clean-up. Least I can do.

Back to my unpreparedness - yes I've been caught with my hair in rollers. First, I lost my credit card and had to cancel it one week before Christmas meaning I've had to rely on loans so that recipients of my gifts are essentially buying their own presents until I can pay them back. Kind of takes the joy out of receiving - but strangely not out of giving. I might be onto something here...

Then I went to London for ten days at the start of December leaving me precious little time to find really insightful gifts. Result, I spent three hours dragging my Emus around a mall yesterday slowly losing the will to live with each passing second.

I have a very honest buying style. If it's something I would most likely re-gift at the earliest opportunity than it doesn't make the cashier. When all you have time to do is trudge around the chain stores...well...300 hours wouldn't be enough let alone three. In the end I make one great find. A golf skirt - it's really cool. Looks like a skirt but is in fact shorts and very feminine too. That's for the mother -in-law who is golf mad. I gave up after that.

I have one more day to get the rest of the presents in. I haven't even started buying for the hubby. He will not be impressed. I'm in big trouble. And worst of all I have no choice but to go to the same mall again today.

It's been nice knowing you all. If I'm not back online soon, please alert the medics.

Merry Christmas!

Friday, December 19, 2008

The Divine Hammer

So far I've been getting the interviews but not the jobs and today I didn't even get the interview but to be fair and I'm not just saying it because...but I really wasn't that bothered.

Either I'm just having a bad run of luck jobsearch-wise (credit crunch not withstanding) or I'm being divinely guided towards doing what I came here to do. Write. I mean, I write. I keep this blog updated but it's more of a wonderwall than a body of work and of course I review new music for Phase 9.tv which is a little dream come true but as Madonna once said, 'I want more.'

I know what that 'more' is. I want to write a novel that people want to read. Though I don't ever start writing with that exact premise in mind. I'm more about entertaining or if I may be so bold, enlightening readers about things readers want to be entertained with or enlightened about.

I have started writing a novel (haven't we all); actually this will be my third serious attempt at creating something palatable. The other two bits of work being more of a practice run at the real thing. The real thing requires full time focus. This I have, all things said and done but of late I've been distracted by the need to feel purposeful. Without defining the criteria it's impossible to do.

In the past I was happy to be defined by job titles and salary and the trinkets these bought- or to put it succinctly, status. And I was falling back into this trap until my recent visit to London served up a warm plate of 'remember-how-much-you-hated-the-rat race?' followed by a steaming plate of 'I miss my baby girl and hubby.' I went to London without the family which was nice but only for a while. And I enjoyed London all the more because my days were free to explore and experience unlike when I lived and worked there.

So here I am back in the tundra a snow storm blowing around me and I mean BLOWING and i mean SNOW yet today, as long as I get my husband back in one piece (he flies back today from a business trip) and lady luck throws me a bone of some sort in the new year be it easy creativity, blissful living or even a silly part time job at a tattoo parlour I will busy myself with the business of purpose. This time it will entail writing like I really mean it and without fear. Oh and Santa please make me a good mum in 2009.

Love and peace to one and all. Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.

Wednesday, December 17, 2008

All in the Mind

I got back from London U.K two days ago - I think. It's hard to think right now. Actually it hurts - jet lag. I was jonesing to get back there (my home town) as I'd spent a year isolated in the 'tundra' (Ontario, my home for over a year now) seemingly friendless and certainly feeling very sorry for myself. But through the magic of social media I had reached out and slowly begun adapting to consuming friendships online at least until such a time I could be with them in person. This I finally got to do last week and thanks to the continuity offered by Facebook it was very easy to pick up the conversation where we had left off instead of wasting time on awkward pauses.

Don't get me wrong I'd rather be talking about say the Andy Warhol exhibition at the Hayward Gallery with a friend (in person) over a cup of coffee or even better, a nice glass of wine or go on then, a pint of beer, after having gone to see it with said friend (as I did) than over social networking tools any day of the week, but fact is I made the choice to move here and now I wouldn't give these tools up for all the friendly faces in town.

Another thing I realised is that relationships are about perception, visualisation and idealism. For example, after a year of yearning for home and familiar cultural reference points afraid that absence would eventually eradicate all relational association, I arrived at London Heathrow and with the determination of an Olympic athlete set about negotiating my way to Islington where I would be spending the week at a friend's place. I got to Paddington Station within 15 minutes; one Oyster card later I was rocking away underground on the Victoria Line heading for Highbury and Islington.

I am not exaggerating when I say I skipped down St. Paul's Street and past the Essex Road towards my friend's flat; all the time realising that no amount of time away from London will ever erase the intimacy of my relationship with it because, it's just that MY relationship, MY perception of it and MY idealisation. I spent the next week criss crossing the town visiting friends and pubs and TopShop like I'd never left, not even for one day.

As a result I've returned to Canada with renewed appreciation for well...everything. And I may have another interview for a Corporate Relations position to boot though I've given serious thought to actually getting down to doing what I moved here to do in the first place - lead a simple life (I have London for complexity if I ever want it) and write a novel. Onwards and onwards.

Tuesday, December 16, 2008

To London With Love

So I say (to the Abba tune - you know which one).....


Thank you for the shopping, the pubs I drank in

Thanks for all the puddles I sank in

Who could move without it, I ask in mobility, I'm totally freeeee

Without an Oyster Card what are we?

So I say, thank you for the nightbus

and the evening's final peeeeee


I've been so naughty, I am the girl with a credit card

I have bought tops and creams and a pair of ear muffs

Jaegerbombs, Kronenburgs, snake bite and blaaaaaacks


Thank you for the markets, the spanish food stalls

Thanks for all the museum art halls

Who can live with one? I ask for Pete's sake and me - I'm freezing my Tssss

Without a scarf what would a Londoner be?

So I say thanks for central heating and for the Med-diterranean seaaaaaa.


Cheers London and my friends. N xx

Thursday, December 4, 2008

Soak Overnight, Dry Flat

The plot that thickened earlier subsequently stuck to the bottom of the pan. I didn't get the job. Not sure exactly why. I was described as a stellar candidate. Another interview where I felt my performance rise above the mundane and then pop! Sod's law sticks a pin in it.

I would dwell on this, it being my nature to wallow especially when I don't feel it's been a constructive use of my time, but I'm too excited about going home tomorrow - London, England. For all it's flaws, it's frankly the only place I want to be right now. I've stocked up on sleeping pills and Pro Plus. While I appear to have planned a picnic for Mrs. Cock-up, I have no intention of being home to Mr. Jet-Lag.

The job search doesn't stop here. Of course not. Networking has to continue but I think the business of self promotion will have to wait until the New Year. Let's hope it brings familiarity and acceptance on all planes - god knows I need someone to throw me a bone. I thank those that have already put the dog bowl out. Sincerely thank you.

Meanwhile I'm being contacted by recruiters in the UK as if divine guidance is trying to steer me towards something else altogether. I've realised in the past I've sort of given up too easily on projects simply because I could and here in Canada I'm finally learning what it feels like to go the distance or at least try to. Every cloud...

After all the emotional investment of the past three months, it's time to grow from it but again that will have to wait too because for the next ten days in the UK, I plan to regress. It's my party now.

So that's me done for a bit in the career stakes. I've been soaked overnight in stark reality and laid out flat to dry .

Now where's my travel iron?

Monday, December 1, 2008

The Plot Thickens

It never ceases to amaze me that whenever I really want something it eithers appears to tauntingly hover at dislocating arms reach where once it seemed perfectly attainable, or almost worse, remains perfectly attainable but has added a couple of layers of bureaucracy - a test of surety.

To be less criptic. I got that second interview I wanted and I feel that I performed well. In fact I gave it my absolute best, based on weeks of insightful research and I honestly think it will pay off in some way, much like the sugar coated rejection of the last role I pursued led to invaluable networking contacts.

So now would it be acceptable to think, even expect that the next step will entail either a job offer or some professional reason for termination; it would except for one thing - the person who really needed to be in that interview wasn't. She was stuck somewhere unholy trapped by fog and blizzard-like conditions. I was interviewed by her partner who though duly engaged was honest about where the hiring buck stopped and it wasn't with him.

I only hope that my carefully rehearsed performance resonated to the point that he will think of our time together as having been worthwhile and make his opinion known where it matters . I suspect however that it will be down to me to duplicate the experience with the top honcho - though let's not get too presumptuous as I may be writing about how they never got back to me this time next week.

As with all things in life that you give your best to, the outcome now lies in the laps of the Gods.

I keep telling myself that practice makes perfect - what's one more interview? I just hope that quantity won't dilute the quality. I don't want to sound over-rehearsed.

Two things to take from all this. Patience is a virtue and if you really really want it -go get it.

Monday, November 24, 2008

Topping Out with the Lipstick Feminist

Forgive me if it seems like I'm loitering around the subject of rock climbing. The way I see it, I may as well. For a start, I'm waiting to hear about a second interview and with the Christmas season sorted editorially (I write reviews for an entertainment website...check me out at www.phase9.tv) not to mention networking meetings petering out for the year, I have a bit of spare time on my hands. Hands I might add, that now look like minced beef and feel like a cheese grater. Attractive. I won't tell you what my feet would say if they could talk. Climbing shoes are like little iron maidens for the toes. Aside from the discomfort I couldn't be happier about getting back in the harness so to speak.

I topped out at least 8 times today - that means reached the top of a climb (bouldering to be more precise) which isn't bad given that it's been 5 years since I last climbed. After the first top out, I wobbled nervously at the precipice looking down at the navy blue of the crash mats 12 feet below, legs like jelly and the sound of blood pumping through my ears. Completely blissed out. Nothing compared to doing the same outdoors but it comes close if climbing in your thing.

I noticed a couple of things while up there. First - now that I've had laser eye surgery and can actually see - I realised how very freaking afraid of heights I still am. Secondly that there is a definite type with specific male/females attributes that are into climbing.

For men it's usually your lanky and lean type. Over a certain age, guy climbers seem to favour facial hair more often than not and seem to emanate an almost hippie-like earthiness that other so-called extreme sport types don't. Rock on is what I say.

More problematic is the female climber over a certain age. I hate to perpetuate the whole image thing that women have over the years been victims of but there was something very 'desperate housewives' about the female climber closing in on her 40s there today. I don't know if it was the make up or the ridiculously tight outfits. I'm all for flaunting it if you have it and indeed they certainly do - climbing is extremely demanding...but I don't know, I just got the feeling that they unlike their hirsute male counterparts seem to be trying too hard. It's the age old adage -women have to try harder and be better just to get the same recognition as men. Don't groan boys; with more girls being born and out-performing boys at school - your time is coming and then you'll understand what I mean because it's all about equal access. Equality is nothing more than a nice idea.

Maybe I'm being too judgemental. Maybe I care too much or maybe I'm just as bad as men of a certain mentality. Maybe I'm forgetting that I'm closing in on 40 and feeling the pressure. What better way to deflect the focus from me. Maybe for every cougar wearing lipstick at the climbing wall there is a medallion wearing man pumping iron at a gym full of sweaty natural females letting it all hang out.

And then I realised I might not have been wearing tight climbing clothes but I certainly hadn't just rolled out of bed. Perhaps making an effort is about self-esteem, after all without it we're just a bag of bones.

As I lugged my bag of bones to the bottom of the boulder for the last climb of the morning I decided to make this one a bit more emancipated. Live and let live!

www.climbersrock.com

Sunday, November 23, 2008

Happiness from Another Angle

So I went to the indoor climbing wall yesterday and it's the best I've ever seen. Nothing under 5.5 (grading system for climbs which refers to how steep a climb is and/or level of difficulty). There was a bouldering competition in progress when I arrived and it was fantastic to see the diversity of climbers there. Mature pro-climbers to kids of school age. That should provide enough camouflage for me. I'm not a bad climber but I'm very out of practice. The last time I climbed was about 5 years ago and while I was leading 5 + routes back then I have since got married, had a child and lost the will to live which can take the spark out of the hardiest delusionally happy clappy type.

I've had an epiphany since the 'girl interrupted' season I started out here as and I'm not about to walk that plank again. To allow that to happen again would be to allow a preventable slip off the mortal coil. Since making the decision to do something for myself (and I mean an honest to goodness self serving activity) I've been in a much better mood and everyone around me has noticed which just goes to show -greed is good (sometimes).

Also I've been invited back for a second interview by the fine old charity I mentioned in my last post. More about that or not as appropriate. I'm off to get a harness, rope, couple of locking carabenas and quick draws. Sound like a western.

Thursday, November 20, 2008

The Cold Boulder

I'm getting back into rock climbing - hallelujah!! hallelujah!! hallelujah!! and it only took the prospect of minus 10 degree weather (moderate by Canadian standards) to prompt a decision I've been putting off a while. My own fault. At best, I tend to cogitate, over think and can be incredibly indecisive. At worst I try too many things at once and end up achieving very little. It's all about the trade-off. I am consciously giving up time that I would otherwise spend at home, drumming, writing or just hanging with the family but due to reasons described earlier...I actually wasn't getting much of these things done so might as well get out, focus on one thing and make it through this winter without too much collateral damage (well maybe a week in Hawaii is justified - just to take the edge off 31 weeks in Tundra-like conditions).

Last year I moped around like "Girl, Interrupted" for close to 6 months. I found myself struggling with S.A.D like symptoms and taking it out on my nearest and dearest. Not this year. Now that I know what's coming, I know I don't have the resolve of last year - nor does my husband. So I'm off to do a refresher course in lead climbing and then just try and stop me from getting really good over the winter. And after that - try and stop me from going to the best most 'bitchin' outdoor climbing areas in the world over the summer.

When life throws you a curve ball - if you can't whack it, at least dodge it.

Tuesday, November 18, 2008

Let the Extravaganza Begin

I received my first rejection today since my job search began at the end of August. There are a couple of reasons why this doesn't make me too unhappy - though I'm not exactly ecstatic. First I realised half way through the hour and a half interview that I really didn't have the right skill sets for the role so I was totally expecting not to get it and secondly: at last the ball is well and truly rolling.

I should start at the beginning before this post confuses you further. Jobs applied for: in the tens and mostly strategic applications - I stopped the scatter gun approach when I was 24 (that's a while ago). Interviews: two (plus countless networking meetings) - not great by anyone's standards least of all someone with such high expectations and so much to offer :) (well, modesty ain't gonna pay the rent) but this is a recession after all and the Canadian job market is 'different'.

In my defense both interviews were for tier one companies - one for a luxury retailer and the other for a huge media company, so nothing to be ashamed of there.

I won't say which one I was rejected by because that's not the point. Fact is the interviewer called me herself and offered to personally refer me to a couple of big PR agencies. If only all life's rejections came with these kinds of sweeteners. The other company where I felt the interview couldn't have gone better has yet to contact me with the outcome. Which just goes to show. I'm not so much offended as disappointed at the lack of professionalism but that is their problem not mine anymore.

Moving on. I have another interview on Friday for a really fine charity. This opportunity was born of the very first networking meeting I ever had. I didn't perform very well as my head was fuzzy from almost a year of, well, nothing too taxing frankly so it would be extremely ironic if this turned out to be 'the one.' Watch this space.

Sunday, November 16, 2008

Animal, Mineral or Vegetarian

I should be in NYC right now but due to 'low ceilings' or in plain English - fog, planes were not landing in Newark all day or taking off from Toronto's Pearson airport. I wasn't alone - Ivana Trump was rattling around T1 like a marble in a shoebox; nice to know it happens to the mightiest too.

I'm all for safety so I'm not angry with the airlines but I have to be honest - I'm disappointed; devastated actually. After a year of utter isolation in Canada I pinned a lot of my hopes for easy, comforting, human interaction on this weekend where I was due to meet friends from the UK for a jovial, boozy, emotional hen weekend full of familiarity and much needed solidarity. I've mentionned the crippling loneliness that has become the leitmotif of my daily existence since moving here (little did I know) so I needed this weekend in New York like a child needs the loving arms of its parents.

I didn't deserve what happened. Not really. I cried, sobbed to be precise and now I'm done with the NYC conversation.

Having to move on for sanity's sake in this abrupt way got me thinking about the Buddhist belief that all things and experiences are inconstant, unsteady and impermanent. Everything is made up of parts and is dependent on the right conditions for its existence. Everything is in flux, and so conditions are constantly changing. Things are constantly coming into being, and ceasing to be. Nothing lasts . In other words, seeking to prolong pleasure when it too is fleeting is inviting the root of all suffering: expectation.

One meditation junky told me once the way to get around this without appearing devoid of humanity is to be involved but detached. I sort of get it . I think it means engagement but not at the lowly emotional level that your average human being functions at. By that rational then if I don't want to feel pain then I have to avoid love. My world devoid of friends is empty enough. If love means pain and vice versa - I'll take the hit every time.

I'm off to London in December to attend the wedding of the girl whose hen party I missed in NYC. I can't wait. I like that I can't wait and no doubt I'll cry when I get there and more if I don't because to deny myself the nature of expectation is to live a life without hope and that just isn't 'real' enough for me.

Wednesday, November 12, 2008

The Quiet Canadian

Having realised that many large companies in Canada with a need for what I do i.e. corporate relations run the corporate bit from either the US or Europe, I was stumped to say the least, as to what my next move might be. I could just stay at home and try to write a novel but that doesn't pay the daycare and I can't write with the peals of a 2 and a half year old ringing in my ears.

Instead I took advice from the most helpful Canadian networking associate I've met to date who told me to become more targeted in my approach. Canadian companies that run their corporate business out of Canada have to fall into a particular turnover bracket with workforce numbers to match. With this information in hand, I trotted off not exactly with a spring in my step, but at least with my curiosity aroused. I knew about RIM for example (makers of the Blackberry) being Canadian. I also knew about a few others that I'd come across in my day to day existence (hardware stores, fast food chains) but I needed a few more poker chips to gamble with than that. So last night I went on a Google fest and I've just been through the most amazing journey of Canadian corporate discovery.

Here's what I found out about truly successful global Canadian companies. They have quietly gone about their business like chameleons. They move into a market, blend in and seem to be local. For example did you know the following companies are all Canuck? Companies like Umbra, McCain Foods and Aldo Shoes are global players in their markets. Most people outside of Canada don’t know Cirque du Soleil or BlackBerry are Canadian, a huge strength in a global market and at last really good news for me. Perhaps I might also take a leaf out of the chameleon's book and apply it to my current dilemma of sticking out like a sore thumb.

Wish me luck. Global players or not - a recession is a recession.

Tuesday, November 11, 2008

Follow Your Bliss

No matter how much you read or see or hear about the secret to inner happiness, it's not real until you feel it. I'm told self love (figuratively speaking) is the key . Let me preface this by saying I have a love-hate relationship with myself so I only feel it occasionally but recently I've had to accept my limitations with regards all things that would currently enhance said inner satisfaction; my desire to sell up and move to the city; my desire to bag the equivalent career job I left in London to come to Canada with my husband and child in search of a 'better quality of life'. (Define better quality is what I will ask myself next time I get a wild idea like that). And of course my desire to grow roots and reap the fringe benefits- community, routine - not to be mistaken for familiarity because we all know where that leads.

I'm working on all three. Now is not the time for passive inactivity I've been telling myself - now is the time to gain traction. And then I realised that in focusing my energies on fighting the good fight - or fights in my case I've been giving the struggle too much credence. I should instead be simply acknowledging the difficulties because ignoring them won't make them go away but in the meantime, simply accepting my limitations at this time.

This, by the way is not earth-shattering news to me or anyone. I always knew that the answer lay in acceptance but how many of us tip our hats knowingly at stress and then just carry on? REALLY just carry on.

Fact is I have no choice in whether I meet myself in the middle or whether I lose it completely. It took that kind of curtailment to realise I have to keep on rollin' (feel like I've been here a 100 times already) but I think I'm at peace with it now.

Follow your bliss folks because when you have nowhere else to turn except into yourself it's much more pleasant a place without the rage and remember to give yourself something to cling onto. Janis Joplin said it best: Freedom is when you have nothing left to lose. If that's true I'd rather be a prisoner.

Monday, November 10, 2008

False Economies or to put it another way The End of Delusion

Making self-serving rash decisions are equally as damaging as not acting at the right time. The key is being confident that it is 'the right time' to do something. To be more precise, I've come to the painful realisation that right now is not 'the right time' to move to Toronto as much confidence as I have in my ability to find the 'right' job and be able to balance the books with the income it would provide.

It just doesn't pay to rush important life decisions and for the moment selling at a loss, or even just breaking even to buy a sub-standard place in the city (money buys less in the city whichever way you look at it) that in two month's time may fall into negative equity could turn out to be more stupid than the time I returned that pair of diamond earrings I mention in my profile.

So while I am not immediately taking the house off the market because after all the world has never known an economic situation like this one - it really all could go either way. The pragmatist in me knows that a financial collapse of this sort will not be resolved by January 2009 like a diseased liver (providing it hasn't already fallen down the wrong side of cirrhosis) takes about the same amount of time to heal as it did to get to the state where it was making you yellow.

So...let's see. I am now back to being stuck in the suburbs for reasons not of my, but greedy bankers' making. Great. Well, I have a choice: sit here purging and moaning forever and a day or make the burbs work for me. Last night as I lay wide awake in bed unable to pinpoint the reason for my insomnia; I have a beautiful healthy child, a roof over my head, a couple of cars in the driveway and a fridgeful of food....I made the decision to not have any more sleepless nights over this. I'll admit I've had a hard time adapting which has led me to overlook all the good stuff, still I'm not beating myself up about it. It's human nature especially when there has been so much change to deal, not to mention the crippling loneliness on a scale I had no idea existed. No, I've got enough going on navigating the Canadian job market.

On this last note , the interviews keep coming so I must be doing somthing 'right' - there's that word again.

I think I'll work on finding some Canadian friends instead and start planning for Chrimbo.

Thursday, November 6, 2008

Guilt by Another Name

I'm not one for U-turns but I am one for realistic goal setting. As you know the house it up for sale and I've long wanted to move to the city. I feel confident that our house will sell fairly quickly despite the current economic times. What I'm not so confident about is that we'll find the house we want in Toronto quite as fast. I've decided not to over analyze things and to just go with the flow. That said I won't be making any rash decisions or relinquish the power to decide.

With all this in mind, I've decided to put into place a contingency (business people call this Business Continuity planning) and so to this end I finally approached an animated posse of nannies at the local library whom I have been secretly surveying for months, to ask about the possibility of engaging one of them in the task of looking after my sweet if somewhat temperamental 2 and a half year old should the job hunt end before the living situation gets resolved.

See, I relocated to the world of trade-offs from the world of choice the minute I became a mum. Work-life balance is another saying for 'you can't have it all'. Ultimately you have to buy-into the life choice made and realise that doing anything half-heartedly will only end in tears of regret and a lifetime of non-completion. How do you decide what part of a child's life is more important? Personally I want to be able to provide for my child when things get truly expensive and that means gaining traction now in my career. Love comes free and that is available on tap, always has - always will. Education and designer clothes don't.

Saturday, November 1, 2008

Substitutes are no Substitute for the Real Thing


The "For Sale" sign has gone up outside the house here in this little commuter town of Oakville and Toronto proper beckons. Let the extravaganza begin! I've been in Oakville now for nine months and it has felt very much like a pregnancy. Right about now I just want it all over and done with and I hope this time it's not going to feel too much like a Cesarean. The only section I want is the one that takes me to the mental hospital if this all fails.

There was a lot of emotional investment in this initial move to Canada and I admit I made a mistake moving to the suburbs - I mean what was I thinking? A city girl like me? But crazy as it sounds I can admit (now that this frumpy phase has an end in sight) that there are things I have grown fond of in this here quaint (see I'm calling it quaint now) town that I will miss when I move to the big smoke. Don't tell my husband. He's been giving Spiderman a run for his money climbing the walls with what he calls my bovine dysfunction (the grass in that field is greener than the cud I'm chewing in this here bog).

He's not entirely convinced I'm going to like Toronto either and well if that happens New York is only an hour and a bit away....but I jest. Of course I'll like Toronto, I already do. It's where the magic happens.

It's funny where desperation leads to find solace. Here's one for you. At the end of my road there is a graffiti stencil (no bigger than a kitten) of a mouse holding a spray can doing graffiti - it's so clever I call it 'The Banksy". It's not of course but I feel at home with it. That stupid little mouse with its backpack and can of spray paint underpinned my far away cultural points of references that were beginning to sag and I love it for that. Sometimes I go and look at it just to make sure I still exist. Have you heard anything more tragic? Hey - whatever it takes to get you through the night right? Well yes and no. The time comes when you have to take stock of what is real and what isn't. When fantasy outweighs reality - it is time to wake up and smell the poutine (a dish consisting of French fries topped with fresh cheese curds, covered with brown gravy and is a quintessential Canadian comfort food - what can I tell ya?).

Thursday, October 30, 2008

Nobody Puts Baby in the Corner

It's not egocentric to give yourself a little bit of credit for effort and endurance - ask any man. Women might dominate in PR but men are the best self-promoters on earth. Take note. I'm starting to because ego like any living thing needs nurturing in order to develop. There is a stark difference between this ego and the nature of arrogance.

I've been in the PR /Communications game for well, 10 years now. Better still, I should say I've been evolving with and in this sector for a decade. Good or bad, I've made career decisions that have all yielded in one way or another and by which I stand. I wouldn't be looking for work had I stayed in London - this is true but by the same rationale I wouldn't have been given half an hour with CEOS here and there of large Canadian corporates on the basis of said 10 years had I stayed.

As purged in "The English PR', the job market in Canada is a very different beast to the creature we like to stroke back home. CEOS here seem to be more open to 'meeting and greeting' or equally 'showing the door to' future talent than they are back home for reasons given in this earlier blog. CEOS in London do the same through delegation. Both systems work at their own pace. Both are equally nerve-wracking and suspense filled and both serve the same purpose. Different strokes for different folks and all that jazz.

So in having secured these networking meetings, I'm realising that I do indeed have sector worthy skills and knowledge for these industry formers and leaders - otherwise why would they even bother? right?. This makes me feel very positive and confident about my prospects here.

Juxtapose this with the advice of a certain group of society, the sort who fuel extremism and fill the letters pages of the tabloids with short-sighted scaremongering, that tell me I might have to settle for second best just because I'm not Canadian. Where is the vision? I ask you? 10 years experience takes TEN YEARS. And the business players I meet agree with this. That it's not a job seekers' market right now is a completely separate issue.

So to those looking for work in new arenas, trust your instincts about yourself. If you know your stuff don't let a small minded ignoramus make you feel less than what you know yourself to be. Chances are they are massive under performers that expect something for nothing. Equally, admit your short-comings and do something about them. The future is in your hands.

Monday, October 27, 2008

Strip Malls and Other Final Resting Places

Rural North American strip malls, so called because they strip you of the very life force energy received at conception, are peopled by the souls of the undead. These grey and frayed blankets of homogeny smother any spark of individuality.

Unlike say Starbucks that pop up like a pimple the night before a big party an ex boyfriend is rumoured to be attending, they merely irritate but you can by-pass them to the little greasy spoon caf next door and be done.

Strip malls have a magnetic force that engages at a distance of 100 ft sucking you in with it's cheap prices and glaring neon signs. Like the gang of mean girls at school that you had to embrace in order to accept and be accepted the strip mall forces you to exchange ideas for doctrine.

I don't want to have the same flippin pictures on my wall as the rest of the street. I want to belong sure, not SURRENDER. I don't want to see my reading chair or coffee table in someone else's front room who's serving me coffee in a top I also have!!

No, give me boutique any day. I don't care that I can only buy one of something instead of ten there at least I'll be the only one with that something. I live in Edward Scissorhand's cul de sac and that is bad enough, don't take my creativity too.

So my dear friends, we're moving to the big smoke. The for sale sign is going up and we're on our way to Toronto proper before I lose my shine.

Friday, October 24, 2008

The English PR

I moved from London, UK to Toronto, Canada last year. We speak the same language and the Queen projects her silver and chrome smile from our countries' respective royal mints. How reassuring. Like these there are other seemingly obvious similarities that on the surface provide a cushion of familiarity until that is, you sit on it and realise that it's nothing more than a 'Whoopee' cushion.

Behind the velvet rope lurks a complex cultural machine that if left unattended will mangle your extremities unless you jump on and steer the beast with the energy of a rookie and the wisdom of a CEO; the cultural shock amplified as the rug of 'familiarity' is pulled out from under you.

I expect this in Bangkok but Toronto? surely not.

I'll explain. I'm your archetypal PR girl who's worked her way up the ranks. I married a Canuck and thought let's move to that lovely country Canada (which it is) . What could go wrong? I have all this experience and knowledge, (bar the unfortunate downturn in the economy) what self respecting multi-national company would not want what I've got to offer?

Most, is the answer. Why? Well unlike the UK where either because the market has traditionally been bigger or more boyant or whether the Brits are happy-go-lucky risk takers - finding a job in PR say, is a walk in the park so long as you have the credentials. Here on the other hand as I'm discovering, if you don't know someone who knows someone you can take your credentials and save them for when the toilet paper runs out.

So I've had to put my British meritogratic tendencies to one side and instead network like my life depends on it. I feel a bit like Elvis Presley's daughter trying to make it on her own..only I can sing so to speak.

The good news is - I'm actually enjoying this networking malarkey and have met some very wise and helpful Canadian business leaders. In fact by the time I do finally get a job in communications or PR, I'll probably have had a coffee or at least a glass of water with everyone on Bloor and Yonge, Bay and Front and other significant outposts.

So to all the Brits out there who want to come here you will have to put your British reserve aside and be bold. Likewise to the Canadians who'd like to try London on for size; Forget your mother's uncle's cousin - you'll want to get on that portfolio like a fat kid on a smartie.