Jamie Jane

209 emails were sent out this month…two Hundred and nine! that must be a record of how many resumes and cover letters that were rejected by literally hundreds of companies at this point. I read somewhere from the depths of the internet that being unemployed is a full time job, and I whole-heartedly agree. I spend hours everyday, customizing my resume and cover letters, filling out forms and registrations to access pathways of future careers. 

I’ve never lost hope in my position. I have had success with a couple of interviews that were sprinkled throughout this month and last. I am going to give it 10 business days for this internship that I am sure that I have in the bag to call me back. I am that confident after that fantastic interview; It couldn’t have gone any better, and I hope that my references were enough to put me over the edge. I really do not want to be passed up for something that can lead me to places that I want to be. I’ve sent my thank you emails and it is all in their hands now. 

I’ll be by the phone if anybody needs me. I hope it’ll be you, unnamed company, that will need me, because I definitely need you. 

Breakfast was full of fruit, oats and yogurt  that was swirled in with almonds that energized my morning and the rest of my afternoon. This breakfast was almost a nuance to what would be my afternoon plans. It was a mix match of stark seriousness and goal setting, and ended with fluid movements of my own pathway around Vancouver and ended on a sweet note with dinner with my cousin. 

My interview went really well, and felt much more like a conversation amongst (hopefully future) coworkers, all while I can see in the background the rapid, beautiful combustion of technology summed up in one building. 

Putting these items together can sometimes create a bitter taste, but today, it was harmonized in such a way that left me satisfied. You are what you eat, after all. 

My friend, Natalie, brought up a good point about running into people in our small town, “At this point, you both can pretend that you don’t know each other and be okay”. She was referring to people that we went to highschool with, and are still around Port Coquitlam. I didn’t realize that it has been almost 4 years since highschool graduation of ‘08. It boggles my mind! 

I still remember faces and recall awkward situations from highschool, and I swear they still haunt me, as if it occurred yesterday. Of course, this thought was brought up when we were talking about random, awkward run-ins from people we haven’t seen since prom. 

My body feels aged beyond its years when I woke up this morning. A stiff with aches in the arms and chest is more than enough physical pain for me to shuffle across the kitchen floor and try to mend it with some tea.

It’s weird and uncanny that my body is so in sync with my thoughts and mental state. It is true when people say that when they look good, they feel good (or the vise versa); this can also be said when the reverse happens as well. when you feel tired or manic, the body reflects that, whole-heartily.

I think what’s happening right now is my body is telling me to relax. Slow down. My mind keeps over thinking and over analyzing at speeds faster than a bullet. So instead, my body is acting like I’ve been shot with a dose of reality, forcing me to stretch my muscles and my thoughts in a more pleasant manner.

I was never much of a baker, or cooker for that matter. It was only maybe the last semester, or two, of my university life that there is more to food than whatever is in that KD Box. Sure, I tried to spice things up with some extra ingredients here or there, but it is nothing to what I’m doing right now. 

Lumpias (spring rolls) are folded to perfection, and dough is rising to the perfect peak. I’m actually enjoying baking, but not for the food. I rarely finish the loaves of banana bread and carrot cakes I’ve made over the last few days, and I do them late at night, around midnight every single time. 

The whirs and kneads of doughs and ingredients are the only noises that I can take in order to ignore the sounds of the negatives words in my head. I can grate as hard as I can in order to chew out all of the frustration.

Watching the food rise and come together is my favorite. it is silent, and the smell of relaxation lingers. 

When I cannot look at your face 
I look at your feet. 
Your feet of arched bone, 
your hard little feet. 
I know that they support you, 
and that your sweet weight 
rises upon them. 
Your waist and your breasts, 
the doubled purple 
of your nipples, 
the sockets of your eyes 
that have just flown away, 
your wide fruit mouth, 
your red tresses, 
my little tower. 
But I love your feet 
only because they walked 
upon the earth and upon 
the wind and upon the waters, 
until they found me.

- Pablo Neruda

Some say the world will end in fire, 
Some say in ice. 
From what I’ve tasted of desire 
I hold with those who favor fire. 
But if it had to perish twice, 
I think I know enough of hate 
To say that for destruction ice 
Is also great 
And would suffice.

- Robert Frost

My knuckles were as white as they were holding the black steering wheels with both hands at my 9 and 3. As white as the substance falling down in chucks and whirls on my windshield.  

It was near midnight tonight when I decided to head home and that is when I noticed the layer of snowflakes lining my car. I had a slight panic attack. I just conquered a small fear of driving downtown commercial, now I have to deal with this? I’ve never driven in a heavy snowstorm by myself. My dad was the one usually coaching me to how to deal with disastrous weather, while in the passenger, not behind the wheel. 

I just had to remember to stay at, or below, the speed limit; keep right; and remember that I have full control of the steering wheel, but keep in mind to shift gears. And never, ever slow stop on a frozen, ill-lit freeway, even with blinkers. 

It took me an extra 15 minutes to get home on top of my 30 minute route, but I’m home. Safe and sound. 

This will be the first and last time I will be caught in a snowstorm.

This is happening all while I wear a leather jacket and a pair of canvas shoes, without socks. Clearly, I was prepared. 

I want to remind you that you can live in the moment. Actually, be the moment. 

There is no shame in enjoying the bliss you had being in this transition. Revel in it. 

You deserve to take a break after 5 full time, consecutive semesters, not to mention finishing school early; I mean, who does that? You’re allowed to sleep in a bit. 

Learn things. Try different things. Be out of the comfort zone and fly. 

It’s actually nice just to hear my sibling play the piano so melodically, instead of him giggling to himself into a pair of XBOX headphones. 

A different noise I haven’t heard in a long time. 

This is the only point in my life in which I am between school and career. My B.A. program finished up, and I am literally just waiting to walk across the stage in June for that awesome piece of paper to say that I am qualified for something. 

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I sit in the living room alone. The refrigerator hums from across the room to remind me that there isn’t much to eat around here when you have clogged ears and nose from the sickness of boredom. 

I feel almost muted from inspiration because of the stagnant transition I had from school and career. Let it be a short and sweet winter. 

A quiet evening with a few friends at the home brought in the new year. Drinks were shared, stories were brought up and laughed off. Some slept if off, the others, drank it off.

I don’t think I could have imagined it any other way to ring in the new year.