Category Archives: Epic FAIL!

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It’s more than a noun.

Before I moved to Montreal, my whole inability to speak French was something that constantly weighed on my mind. In fact, it stressed me right the fuck out. Everyone would assure me that everything would be fine and I would get by and for arguments sake I have.

Although, not being able to speak the language coherently has it’s pitfalls of course. I’m really not gifted when it comes to languages. My grade nine French teacher can attest to that. In fact I’m pretty sure I only got the grade that I did just so that she wouldn’t have to deal with me again. Adult me can understand her frustration, teachers work hard and having a student who clearly didn’t give a shit obviously didn’t help. Needless to say, life was much different when I was 14.

Never, ever in a million years did I think that I would end up here.

It would have been much easier to take a course when I first moved here, except I ended up getting a job right away and well when you work in a kitchen; your schedule is so erratic that anything that requires you to have a set schedule is pretty much impossible most of the time.

So after my ex and I split and I started doing my own thing, I started to partake in a conversational French course that was offered at a local un-employment center in the neighbouring borough. It was a great course while I was actively participating in it, then I got sick with a hellish lung infection and ended up missing so many classes, I decided that there was no real point in going back for the time being.

Then just for the hell of it, I started taking a beginner class at a local college here. Except that’s not entirely cost effective at best (it was $250.00 per class and there’s 5 levels)–and- for it to be effective at all in a learning sense, you need to be consistent and keep at it. So last winter before my father passed away, I enrolled into the same class that was offered at the center that I had taken before. It was cost effective and I had the time. Then I lost my dad and trying to tackle a French course two weeks after loosing your dad is foolish at best. Yet, I thought that it was worth a shot. So I went to a few classes while struggling to deal with the loss of my dad and the ton of drama that came along with it.

Worst. Idea. Ever.

When you suffer from depression like I do, your short term memory is gone. You team that up with anxiety and just trying to keep it together for the couple of hours that you have for class. There were only a dozen of us in this class and participation is required. I hate being put on the spot and I struggled but I tried. I get very anxious and overwhelmed when I don’t understand something, which quickly turns to frustration and my mind becomes a giant cluster fuck. Than I feel really stupid. I’ve learned to recognize these signs and I try to offset them with internal rationale. It’s not so much that i’m a bad student, I just don’t do well at things I have to do, vs things I want to do.

Anyway- I got called out in class for something. I needed to figure out a noun for part of the conversation.

Imagine my horror when I could not for the life of me remember what a noun was.

The two guys sitting behind me were laughing, the teacher was looking at me with the most (understandably) incredulous look on his face. I felt like the proverbial deer caught in the headlights and my face burned bright and hot with the shame and embarrassment of my failure.

My mind was completely blank, I couldn’t formulate a thought to save my life and I don’t think I have ever been more mortified or anxious.

I was so ashamed and so embarrassed that I never went back.

Yes, I know that’s really over the top and extreme to some. However when you just lost your dad, you’re dealing with depression along with anxiety and a whole host of other things, it’s just a little too much. Even if you don’t fancy yourself to be much of a drama queen (I don’t). I felt stupid and worse yet I was (and still am) terrified that I would never get my mind back.

Depression robs you of so many things, your memory, your dignity and more. It’s defined as a mental illness; it does not just affect your mind. Depression eats at you on all levels, mind body and soul.

So I sacrificed my going back to school for computer graphics to take a level one French course (again). This class is full time for three months. I am terrified. That last incident is much too fresh in my memory and being that I cry a lot these days more often than not, I truly hope that I not only learn something and garner a much needed grasp on the language, but I also hope that I don’t have an anxiety induced meltdown and embarrass myself again.

I’m not one of those people who are OK with having public meltdowns. I am a very private person and I get very overwhelmed and shut down when I feel that people are invading my perceived personal space. I don’t care for pity and I don’t care to play the victim either, because I’m not. I’m just a person who has a whole lot of walls and I only plan to add windows when I’m good and ready to. It’s one of my biggest flaws; however I have always been this way. I wish people would accept that.

It’s not you; I can give you complete reassurance that it’s me and my very messy mind.

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You’re not invited.

It’s been brought to my attention that you would be hurt if I didn’t invite you to my wedding.

Hurt?!? Really?!?

Fuck you!
You should have thought about that before you shit on me for the last time. You are delusional if you think that I can just walk away from this and ‘forgive and forget’.

That’s not how this works. That’s not how ANY of this works as a matter of fact. I will NOT, under any circumstances, reward bad behaviour.

Perhaps you ‘forgot’ about the following incidents that have plagued me since last July.
I haven’t forgotten, and here’s a reminder for you.

-July 2014 you took the liberty of talking shit about me to several of my friends; behind my back when I came home to Ontario last summer.
Oh, you thought that I didn’t know?
I have VERY loyal friends who felt that I had the right to know what people were saying about me behind my back. You have a mouth the size of the Grand Canyon and you stop at nothing to try and make me look bad.

You are petty and jealous. You won’t succeed in making me look bad; you however are doing a fine job of making yourself look bad, along with jealous, petty, bitter and conniving. You just can’t help yourself.

You damaged several relationships with your petty bullshit. Thankfully I was able to restore most of them because people can see through you. That was uncalled for regardless.

In spite of it all, with the holidays coming up and knowing that it was most likely going to be my father’s last Christmas, I decided to be the bigger person and let it go. Even just for the holidays. So I did. It was one of the best Christmases I have had in a while and thankfully you managed to keep that toxic mouth of yours shut so that you didn’t ruin the holiday for the rest of us.

Let’s fast forward to February of this year. My father passes away and some piece of shit robs my childhood home and steals pretty much every damn thing.

ONCE AGAIN you take it to Facebook to spew forth your stupid petty bullshit.
I took you off my friends list; I couldn’t deal with you and your shit any longer.
You however took it a step further and blocked me. This is fine by me because now I don’t need to see –or- hear anymore of your toxic lies.

ojcj8

May rolls around, it’s the weekend of my father’s memorial service. I arrived in Ontario on the Friday and there you were, furiously texting away on your phone. I seen you take a picture of me, one that I did not authorize, followed up by more furious texting. So it’s pretty obvious that you were once again, talking shit about me. Don’t try and deny that, I’m not deaf; in fact my hearing is just fine. If you’re going to try and sneak a picture of me, perhaps you should turn the sound off your damn phone.

My aunt drives you home, where you couldn’t resist yet another opportunity to talk shit about me. Which of course is brought to MY attention because fuck you.
My aunt took it upon herself to fill me in on how you lied to her about how I had been talking shit about you on Facebook, which is your MO, NOT mine. I am not that tacky thank you.
No need to get into specifics but the reality of the situation is this, after I was given the opportunity to explain MY side of the story to my aunt, even she said and I quote:” What is wrong with her?” Not ME. She was talking about YOU.

The next day, the day that I was honoring my father at his memorial service, you once again tried to steal the show and be the center of attention by being a bitter and vicious bitch.

You foolishly shoot your mouth off about me AT MY FATHERS FUNERAL to my family and friends and once again try and play the victim as you always do and expect me to NOT find out about it?!?

Are you brain dead?

And yet after alllllll that (and there is SO much more) you have the audacity to tell my mom that you would be hurt if you weren’t invited to my wedding?

You don’t get to pretend that everything is OK because YOU decided that it was because it’s not. Not even remotely close.
Learn how to deal with your fucking anger; no one is willing to indulge your sorry ass anymore. You aren’t adult enough, nor capable enough to deal with anger.

Lovely example you’re setting for your children by ignoring the problem for months and months and then all of a sudden out of no where you loose your shit several months later, scream and yell at people and then when YOU have your say, you think it’s over.

NO MORE.

Everyone keeps telling me to be the bigger person (once again) and let it go. This isn’t fucking frozen! 

I can’t trust you, and yet you want me to invite you to one of the most important days of my life?

I don’t fucking think so.

I even found a perfect song for you. (NSFW) or this one seems to be pretty accurate as well.

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You’re an asshole parent.

I’m being extra judg-y and petty right now.  I also don’t care.  Now that’s out of the way…

I don’t have kids, but one thing I know for certain is that if you and hubs have split ways and share your kids here’s a tip:

FUCKING COMMUNICATE!

Normally I don’t like to ‘drag’ other people into my blog life because it’s just not right.  However when history repeats itself time and time again and I get screwed over?

Game over motherfucker.

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I made plans back in APRIL to have my mom and my niece come visit me in Montreal.  My mom always comes to visit me once a year and this year the Lion King (the Broadway musical) is making a comeback so I bought really awesome seats for my niece and I.  It was a major splurge but I figured since it was for her birthday and part of Christmas, why not?

Well her dad booked his vacation during the EXACT same time that my niece is supposed to be in Montreal with my mom and myself.

Apparently it was asking for too much to wait for four measly days for his daughter to have the time of her life, enjoying what is most likely to be a once in a lifetime opportunity for his daughter to see a beautifully done musical in Montreal.

Lot’s of blame has been tossed around but you know what?

I made plans with her first, I should have first priority since I only get to see her once or twice a year.  Apparently none of that matters because someone doesn’t know how to communicate effectively.

Did I mention that the travel tickets and the musical tickets are also non refundable?

So you are an asshole parent Jeff.

That’s really fucking low.  Your daughter should come before your needs.

I’ve lost all respect for you now.

 

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I committed career suicide.

Apparently.

I’ll admit it, I’ve gotten really spoiled the past few years with a nice cushy culinary job.

I earned it. 

What a lot of people don’t realize is that the culinary industry is very egocentric and God help your sorry ass if you have a vagina and are *gasp* better at something than some guy on your line.  It’s also very, very sexist.  Growing up and pursuing this particular art form was nothing short of a hellish nightmare.  I was constantly told that I would never make it as a Chef.

Except I did.  I even wrote my own damn cook book too.  Because I am AWESOME. 

I have spent the last 4.5 years in a upscale, private daycare.  On June 13th 2014 I was unceremoniously fired for reasons I can not currently discuss in a public forum.

So I did what any self respecting Chef would do.  Dusted off my CV (which is a work of art) and hit the ground running looking for work.  There is no shortage of restaurants in this lovely city and generally at any point I found myself without a job I always found one within a week or two.  Usually within in a few days.  When you work in a restaurant, jobs as a line cook are plentiful.  As are other higher ranked opportunities (such as Chef de partie, sous chef and so forth).

That is until you work in a daycare for almost five years…

That right there?  That’s what you call career suicide.

I have lost count of how many CV’s I have sent out.  I have, to be fair gotten my fair share of call backs as well.  Which is great until you show up for the interview and they compliment you on how ballin your CV is, but then when it gets to your qualifications and experience, it’s like they never read the fucking thing!?!  It’s pretty clear that I haven’t worked on a line in almost five years and I’m straight up about that too.

Oh and I can’t forget the times that I have been either scheduled for a job trial and/or an interview only to show up and be told that the position has been filled.  Because clearly calling me as a courtesy is too taxing for you.

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So I finally caught a break.

Or so I thought. 

I accepted a job at a not to be disclosed location and all of a sudden I became the most popular person ever!  My phone was going INSANE with interviews and job offers.  I have one place BEGGING me to come there.  Except I had committed to one and I told the others that I would get back to them.

Well the really nice, high paying sous chef job required me to be more bilingual than I am and that made me sad because I couldn’t accept it in the end.  Another job trial was in a production kitchen but the kitchen manager was a giant douche bag and I knew the minute I laid eyes on him, it wasn’t going to work out.  I was right.  Which was fine actually because holy shit listening to CJAD all day and cutting vegetables? zzzzzzzzzzz  Yeah I would have done it for now because well bills and stuff.  I could go on and on but needless to say, it just wasn’t working out.  It’s basically been what’s stated above, lather, rinse, repeat.
I need a few days to settle in somewhere and get organized.  The first few shifts for me are always clumsy and awkward but you team that up with not being in that environment for so long?

You’re fucked.

Metaphorically it’s like this: It’s like an old friend you’ve known for years and years and all of a sudden you don’t talk for 4.5 years.  Then you get reunited.  Which is great, it’s familiar but a lot has changed too.  So you need to spend time playing catch up with this person.

Except no one can afford to give you that time, or you’re not French speaking enough or lacking your papers or a car and the list goes on and on.

So I took the last option I had handed to me, they’re really nice people, gorgeous restaurant and then as we were setting up to open I noticed that there was 4 different types of meat on the counter.  I put my hand on them thinking that they had just been pulled out of the fridge.  Nope.

THEY WERE ROOM TEMPERATURE! RAW MEAT, LEFT OUT ON THE COUNTER, OVERNIGHT IN JULY.

Oh hell no.

So.  So much for that place.  Back to the grind I go, more interviews, more of the oh, you’ve been out of restaurants for a while.  Yeah this isn’t going to work out (Again, read my f’ing CV jackass).

Yet I didn’t give up, that is until yesterday.  I had a training shift schedule at a place that I thought would be a good re-introduction back into a line.  I was flat out honest about where I stood, how long it had been since I had worked on a line and blah blah blah.  He didn’t care, thanked me for being honest and I thought OK cool it’ll do for now.   I was asked to be there at 5pm and I waited and I waited until 5:30 and that’s when I left.  Because if you can’t be bothered to be there on time or at least make the effort to call me or your restaurant, that says a lot of things about you and they’re not nice.

I had one last interview today.  It was more of the same, but I got points for being honest.  No real loss there, the place is an hour away.  *Note to self, no more jobs in the mile end.

So that being said, i’m moving onto to other things I’ve had in the works for a few weeks.  Just need to finalize some details first.