Wednesday, December 14, 2011

Looking Backwards.

When it comes to looking back
It's a terrible habit indeed
When you reminisce about he who lacked
and could not suit your needs

It's a terrible thought to ponder
That you let him(s) get so close
And you really begin to wonder
Why the fuck it was he(s) you chose.

He(s) said you were a different person
And perhaps this fact became true
Particularly when he(s) spoke of ANOTHER person(s)
Instead of focusing on you.

Why should he(s) deserve who you really are
When this whole time you tried to be you,
He(s) imagined others with which he'd go far
Not giving a shit about what he could lose

His('s) easily swayed attention
was less than a desirable trait,
Affecting one's own self-perception
And breeding an impeccable hate

You don't get to see past the gate
When you're too busy with your head up your arse
Altering my psychological state
and treating my feelings as farce.

but alas, it was all over ages ago
Dark times and lame lads behind
My real self now only will show
To the real man I happened to find.

Tuesday, September 20, 2011

Back again again again again.

Alright, it's time to start this shiznit up again.

In part, it's because I am currently infuriated by the complete dysfunction of my current living situation. In another part, it's because one section of my life is coming to a close and almost as quickly another is beginning. Any kind of creative outlet might help to alleviate some of the anxieties that come along with not being a student and being forced to become an adult. Growing pains. Cleverrr.

So what do I think about finally putting on the classic pencil skirt-blouse-blazer combo and marching out the door only to be stuffed onto a public vehicle nose-to-nose with other people who had no idea their degree would lead to such an undignified mode of transportation? It's not bad.

I still have trouble getting up in the morning, particularly because I'm blinded as soon as I turn on the light. I don't get it, because I used to have to wake up at 6am every during high school just to catch the damn bus.

I feel mildly awkward in my new office. I have this everywhere I go though, so I guess that's not really new.

I'm running out of things to wear. Yet I need to save money. Instead of putting my well-earned (yeah right) birthday funds towards something awesome, I likely will be hitting up a mall to make some more business casual combos. =/

October and therefore Halloween is coming soon. October 1st is the last day of my retail job, which is so complexly bitter-sweet that I can't tell if I will love or hate leaving. A little of both I guess.

I loooove Autumn and Halloween for the colours and the snuggle-time weather and the gloomy days.

I think the fact that I am no longer a student is a perfect excuse for not having to complete this entry coherently.

Stay Tuned!!!!



Monday, June 27, 2011

Sweet, Sweet Sundays.

Definition of SWEET
a (1) : pleasing to the taste

a : pleasing to the mind or feelings : agreeable, gratifying —often used as a generalized term of approval
b : marked by gentle good humor or kindliness
c : fragrant

d (1) : delicately pleasing to the ear or eye
(2) : played in a straightforward melodic style
e : saccharine, cloying
f : very good or appealing

: much loved : dear
a : not sour, rancid, decaying, or stale : wholesome
b : not salt or salted : fresh
c : free from excessive acidity —used especially of soil
d : free from noxious gases and odors
e : free from excess of acid, sulfur, or corrosive salts

Sundays are my only days off as it is; I work a few times during the week, and when I'm not doing that, I'm on campus, learning things about Shakespeare most people will probably never know or even care to know about in their lifetime.

The main issue with my lack of blogging is that week days strike me as mundane, uninspiring and exhaustive. It's Sunday where I actually have time to relax, interact with people I truly care about, and feel alive again. Sweet.

Yes, I do believe these past couple of Sundays can be described in a nutshell by the definitions above.

Last night the Mister and I saw Woody Allen's Midnight in Paris, the deliriously inspiring conclusion to a day downtown in the CN Tower. The film involved a man going back to 1920s Paris only to meet some of the greatest modern writers and artists. The Parisian atmosphere was alluring all on its own, unless of course Rachel McAdams was in the scene being a damn banshee.

Two Sundays ago now, it was Father's Day. Although it also happened to be the one-year weekend for myself and the mister, I did spend the day with Dad and his dog:

Cisco, formerly known as "Puck", came from Taiwan. He's small, hyper, adorable and has a thing with glomping the cat, which part-way explains the cone of indignity as he wears it in this photo.

This Sunday was Mister and Tasha's day for our one-year triumph, and so it was fitting to do something "touristy" I guess, as my friend Leena pointed out. Indeed, we did do touristy things among tourists, but it was the most amazing experience to me after a week-long march through non-stop life experience.

The cutest, when all the boats on the lake looked like little toys. How's that for alliteration?! =p

Tasha and Mike's feet on the glass floor. Note how his feet are cautiously placed on the beams.

My life's goal should be to bottle sweet feelings.

Love, Tasha.

Saturday, May 14, 2011


While I was out killing myself in an attempt to jog yesterday, I was listening to the radio on my ipod. There was a commercial for LottoMax, a sweet-ass lottery whose jackpot was 25 million.

I'm convinced we all do the same thing when we start to think about what we would do if we won the lottery. We think of the immediate things we'd take care of. Then we think of all the things we want to do, but never really imagined possible without money. We run away with the possibilities, we lose ourselves.

As I head to work for my evening shift, I stop at the mall for a few of my basic things. Body wash, razors, bus tickets. And while I contemplate how on Earth I will afford myself after I graduate, I buy a LottoMax ticket.

Suddenly, my mind fills with something not quite euphoric, because I haven't won my $25 million yet. Instead I slip off into a cozy world where a warm and fuzzy feeling fills me up. I've paid off my university tuition. I've stopped living with family members and I've moved out into my own lovely apartment (or maybe a house, since I would need my own swimming pool). I have a *car*. A Cooper Mini, even though my mum once told me she'd never let me buy one of those.

I have a dog, a cat, a HEDGEHOG! <(o^_^o)> I have the nicest, Queen-size sleigh bed covered in beautiful linens and pillows (I like nice beds, what?!)

My boyfriend and I are going away for a while. We've planned an erratic trip to various places all over; all the spots we've always wanted to go.

My parents can safely retire without a care in the world. My grandmother can sell her house and go and do whatever the hell she wants. I can spoil my older brother and bribe my younger brother into finishing highschool.

Riding on the pleasant feeling such a daydream gives me, I finish my shift without being too irate. Of course, I check my ticket on the internet, and none of the numbers match.

...Would have been pretty cool, though.

-Love, Tasha.

Tuesday, May 10, 2011

Strange Things That Exist on the Internet.

And believe me when I say that I understand it is impossible to encapsulate all that falls under this category in one, or even one THOUSAND posts. Even in my hearing about and stumbling upon the strange things that exist on the big and scary interwebs, I'm sure I haven't even come close to the ugly underbelly that lies ahead of those who actually SEARCH for these things.

Subject of focus? 4chan. I know this is nothing new for many (ye be judged!), but what in the world IS this?! Well, according to the description one finds on Google after typing this curious term into its search engine, it is merely the "largest English imageboard on the web". Ah! But it is SO much more than that. Is this where internet memes are born, or is it where they go to die?!

Upon clicking to the site from Google, the "recent images" I was subjected to consisted of: One white girl in a native headdress, one half-naked anime girl (99.9% of this site) AND one transexual woman bent in such a fashion that her less-than-womanly MAN parts are brilliantly exposed for all the world to see.

Categories seem to boast some sort of ability to pander to all sorts of interests, with Japanese niche words like (WARNING: NOT SAFE FOR WORK OR OTHER PEOPLE IN GENERAL) "oekaki" and "ecchi"

I guess the most odd component of the site would be the users. One interesting and seemingly hypocritical example:

"Are video games and 4chan the only thing you are going to do for the rest of your life? You pathetic sedentary eunuchs. Go outside and meet someone. If you're ugly as fuck, which you most usually are, there are plenty of fat and ugly girls around. You stupid virgins, at least read and educate yourselves; end this squalid beardnecktedness that has consumed you. You make me fucking sick.

Thanks and good night."

Beardnecktedness indeed.

On the flipside, who am I to display a weariness towards the people who indulge in such INTERNET appendages? If 4chan is what makes you happy who am I to cry "what the f***?!" Besides, there appears to be categories even *I* could be interested in, like the academic stylings of the "literature" categ- oh wait, nevermind. =/

Love, Tasha

Sunday, April 17, 2011

The Possibilities are Endless.

What would you do if your personal abilities were limitless?

Today, like most Sundays, my boyfriend and I spent the day together. Movie, lunch and me and him times is pretty much my ideal day, albeit unproductive in other aspects. Still, <3!

ANYWAY, We decided that we would watch the film "Limitless", based on some recommendations and some comments floating around the web. I feel like the film itself must have been poorly marketed or whatever, since it's not in the top five this week and I also didn't really hear much about it until recently.

What this post is REALLY about, however, is the central concept of the movie. Edward Morra (Bradley Cooper) is presented with a clear pill that opens up the percentage of the human brain that usually goes unused. Even though this statement was immediately debunked by my boyfriend (a connoisseur of miscellaneous information), Edward the bum of an unsuccessful writer becomes motivated, tidy, clean, successful, highly intelligent and even talented in the span of thirty seconds.

And so, the film presents to its audience the exceedingly tempting idea of a drug that taps into all of our unused potential, ambition and perception. Despite all of the crazy things that happened to Edward Morra as a result of his using the drug, I was definitely sold.

I'd learn languages. Retain and build on what I know of English, Mandarin Chinese and French, and move onto Spanish, Italian, Dutch, German, Japanese, Bulgarian, Swahili, you name it.

I'd break into any field of expertise I wanted. I've always had interests in literature and media...but with a pill like that I'd be able to overcome any intellectual flaws, thereby being able to do math and inherently biology, zoology, marine biology...and act in Shakespearean plays on the side since my confidence and ability to tap into emotions would be uninhibited.

I'd become more wealthy, according to my own new-found resourcefulness, and work on retiring both my parents early so they'd never have to work again. I'd settle my grandmothers into dream homes and care for them in any ways needed as time went on.

I'd learn instruments, like Edward Morra. Piano, drums, violin. I'd become a virtuoso.

With those kind of abilities, nothing would be a mere attempt anymore. Everything would be a complete success, a triumph and not an effort, just another ordinary thing you can do, like eating, sleeping or breathing.

And yet, the movie inspired me. If Edward wasn't so lazy and unkempt, he could have been capable without the drug. The movie seemed to imply that much of the knowledge that emerged were things he'd already encountered in his life. Sure, there are some things (that I don't want to give away) that were impossible for a regular human to achieve...but languages, organization, self-respect...these are all things that we can have.

That's what got me to finally update my blog, and from now on there will be nothing but me bullying myself to get things done. Wish me luck!

Are you just as unsatisfied with your own attempts at self-improvement sometimes? Shouldn't we just make the most of who we are? Would YOU follow in the footsteps of Bradley Cooper as Bradley Cooper, but on drugs?!

Afterall, the possibilities would be endless.

Love, Tasha.


Saturday, April 16, 2011

What I Do in the Shower.

So, aside from the obvious, I find that my time in the shower tends to be devoted to the contemplation of life's most complicated matters.

For some reason some of the deepest thinking I do takes place under a stream of hot water, almost like a state of hypnotism; I soul-search, I ponder, I resolve!

Sometimes a thesis for an essay will pop into my brain and I will then curse because I have no pen and paper for which to write this fleeting moment of brilliance down. Other times, I will mull over a world issue or some sort of controversy with someone I know and formulate a strong stance on the subject for which I can later present.

Today, I was thinking about myself in a very psychoanalytical type of way. Stemming from thoughts of my adorable boyfriend, I got to thinking about past relationships and their effects on my psyche. Sometimes I think about this when I wonder why I have the insecurities that sometimes plague me.

The main problem, or at least what *I* thought was the problem at the time, was the level of expectation I had for past relationships. I had an idealized vision of what it should be like, and this was backed by skeptical input from friends and desperate internet searches that only seemed to support an indifferent stance on what is considered commitment in a relationship. I began to try and pick apart this internal conflict between what I want and what the status quo claims I *should* want in a relationship.

But THEN I realized that I have exactly what I want now, which leads me to think that there was nothing really wrong with me in the first place, which means that I can send out a collective "screw you" to all who ever a) couldn't meet my needs and b) thought I was crazy for having such needs. XD

As I stood soapy and wet and bedraggled in the shower, I also wondered why my leg was bleeding. As it turns out, deep thoughts and leg razors are a terrible combination!

...think about it.


Tasha xoxo

Wednesday, March 23, 2011

:: Wounds and Such

This post is about scars.

Today, at some point, I was thinking about scars.

Everyone has them.

One scar is from aimlessly tumbling down a ditch in childhood.

Another one on my knee was acquired from falling on ice.

My favourite knee scar is comprised of three parts- 1) the long remnants of a botched incision, 2) a hole in the kneecap and 3) two little "x" shaped things above aforementioned incision.

The story- at the age of fifteen, I was having the time of my life. My friends and I left school property to hang at a park. I ran and ran and laughed and laughed and rode the swing and jumped and soooooooared through the air and then landed, hard. Nothing about me has ever been the same since.

They reconstructed a ligament in my right knee. I like to think the scar signifies a sort of bravery- repeated needles, an epidural, a night in a lonely hospital bed, hallucinating by way of injected morphine doses. How badass.

There is a small scar on my eyelid that only *I* can notice, when I put eyeliner on. A reminder of firsts- first time in the ambulance, first and only time I seriously contemplated the idea that I might be blind.

I got it from my cat, who was apparently not in a good mood that day. Again, it happened when I was a teenager. With my eyelid hanging down on my face, I asked my best friend at the time via MSN to call the ambulance, as blood leaked into my eye and clouded my vision. It luckily only required a couple of stitches and I can still see, so that's the positive to the story. Here is a picture of the aftermath (obviously don't look if that kind of thing grosses you out):

Re-reading my own words, I feel pretty jaded and abashed at talking about my physical imperfections. Someone who has met with some sort of unfortunate accident will read this and be offended. Don't worry, I recognize how...irrelevant this all sounds.

What kind of scars do you have? They don't have to be physical; they can be emotional ones too. The old saying always goes "what doesn't kill you makes you stronger". Embracing traumatic occurrences builds a compendium of experiences that will fortify you for life ahead- and also make great stories to tell people, unless they make you look stupid. Then you usually just keep it to yourself. =p

Love, Tasha


Monday, March 21, 2011

A Little Girl Stays in a Little Girl's Place- My Path to Becoming a Force to be Reckoned With

If you're anything like me, you might find yourself struggling to show people who you are as opposed to being pushed over.

With a few crazy days at work and a handful of unnecessary complications at my post-secondary institution (not to mention just life in a general sense), it is becoming more and more apparent to me that I actually do have to "raise my voice", so to speak- in order to be heard.

Now, I guess I can see why people have a hard time not being condescending in my presence- being a woman of short stature and youthful appearance (oh, you!), it is not unusual that I face everyday difficulties ranging from a customer questioning my validity as a cashier to being I.D.'d when ordering a Caesar (my FAVOURITE!) at a restaurant or bar or what have you.

Even so, the truth is that I am a 23 year old WOMAN who is literally on the cusp of venturing out into the big, bad world of so-called reality. There should be nothing holding me back from taking life by the balls.

One of my bosses always tells me that I shouldn't let the things disgruntled customers do or say get to me; but it's much more than the initial insult- it's the simple fact that there are many people who don't take me seriously.

Well, I'm no professional at this whole "I'm here and can legally drink beer- get over it" thing, but I've decided that by practicing my man-up skills, I will eventually be naturalized in the ways of self-assertion and the age-old act of holding my own. Here are some things I do that I like to think are working, as applicable to the workplace, school, career searching and casual scenarios...maybe you can do them too:

1. "Bodily Functions"
- literally stand up tall- they tell me that posture implies power. HUZZAH!
- eye contact- constantly looking away really does give people the impression that you are either shady or f*cking scared.
- relax! making one's self into a ball is not going to make complicated interactions with other people go away. Also, you look like a tool.

2. Climate Control
- this week alone, I have been yelled at by like, 3 customers for things that I literally am either bound my employer to adhere to, or simply cannot control. speaking calm and rationally about these facts keeps you from curling up instinctively into a fetal position, and makes other people at least partially aware that you do in fact have a firm position.

3. Always be SPORTIN' or ROCKIN' something
- Some post-modern theorists assert the idea that we are becoming "cyborgs"...extending ourselves through the things we use/wear- I say the future is now!
- yeah yeah, it's not all about your external appearance...but it still helps!
- Whether it's my knee-high boots, a delicious shade of nail polish, winged-eyeliner or just a plain ol' good hair day, I always make sure I leave the house with something about me that I can "rock".
- This kind of thing can make you feel all kinds of awesome/hardcore.

4. You Are the Hottest Person You Know
- Oh me! I can be so secretly vain that it's hilarious.
- I dunno about you, but SELF-LOVE really cheers me up.
- On the rare occasions that I can achieve this mentality (remember, it's the practice that will make it last), I feel like one of the most intelligent, lovely and resourceful people that I know.
- you can remind yourself of this by revisiting your favourite goals and achievements...for example, I got TWO A+'s today, ladies and gentleman. I f*cking rock!
- . . . okay, so, in execution, it looks easy...but it can take time!

These are the things I am trying on for size right now. An honourable mention might be thinking about other people that inspire you. I have a secret crush on actress Keira Knightley- thinking about her confident mannerisms makes me want to...emulate her, obviously! Don't be a pervert.

Feeling like you are being talked down to, or not taking seriously, can be a pretty discouraging for anyone. If this happens to you often, take it upon yourself to let the world know you're here! I feel betterrr already.

I'm sleepy.

Love, Tasha

P.S. Happy Birthday Mummy!!!! Hope you had a great day!

Thursday, February 17, 2011

Mikeless in Manhattan.

I cannot believe I've been sitting in this classroom for an hour and a half. My bladder is full of coffee and sports drink, my gum is getting stale. I has to pee!!!

What have I been up to lately? It's weird, when people ask me that question. On the surface, I can't say "Oh, you know, performing in a traveling circus". Really, the only consistent activities my body has been actively participating in lately is school, work, and hanging with my partner with a sprinkle of yoga classes.

Internally however, I am like a roller coaster. I can't be the one only one who endures this daily craziness, where your mind races over all the things you have to do between now and the future. There's also the odd days where my good friend Productivity is nowhere to be found, and I just want to lay in bed watching X-Files all day.

I of course want to say that I will update my blog daily or atleast a couple of times a week, but I feel like my attention span is way too all over the place for me to keep such a promise to myself. We shall see.