Excerpts from the Peanut Gallery

Mamma K rides again!

I am at a loss to start off here, i know i have failed my faithful readers - all three of you, seeing that i have been in Ottawa for more than a week now and have given you nothing, not a morsel of exciting, pithy, lucid and concise writing. so we'll just start en medias res- all you need to know was that my so-called "O-week" was fantastic (i say 'so-called' becuase there were no hawaiian shirts, no demonic geese and no banana-milk-bobbing monstrosities, but really, i can live happily without that dark side of trinity).

anyways this week has taken a slight turn for the worse. Really the pathetic fallacy of it too is about all i can take. Not only did i have a horrible interview (well not horrible, but you know the type where you replay it in your mind for hours thereafter and thing of so many better things you could have said- and those things that you did say, 'oh sweet moses what was i thinking?'). I have said some rather incriminating things lately...but what makes it almost unbearable is the heat. I most definately showed up at this interview for my internship sweating profusely, red in the face (one of the most desireable qualities of us redheads is that we come with an inner mechanism so that our hair matches our skin in a lovely shade of rouge at the most inopportune moments. the weather is so stiflingly humid that i feel like i am in a Douglas Coupland novel, where even the nicests of vacation playgrounds are described like scorching, angry barren wastelands that no one in their right mind would ever set foot in. However i do feel some comfort in that i feel slightly more cultured now that i can actually refer to a Douglas Coupland novel. But then again, i am more cultured since moving to the east, I have had intensive etiquette training, I appreciate the finer elements in the swedish carvings adorning our building and i even visited a museum the other day, and not just any museum, but a museum of modern photography. I kid you not. I am also so cultured now that i have given up kidding entirely.

Well, not quite, as I am about to loose all credibility: Truthfully, i feel more like i am the girl in Confessions of a Shopaoholic who tucks a copy of the day's Financial Post under her arm before going into any meetings so that people will believe she seriously knows what she is talking about. I should have tucked a copy of the Economist under my arm when i went into that interview yesterday, or at the very least a copy of the brochures from their organisation that i had been given...

Anyways, i guess this all goes to show once again, that when you get cocky you are bound to get knocked down, but as the esteemed Chumbawamba so aptly put it (raise your tumbler with me and in full scot's voice we sing:) "i get knocked down, but i get up again- you're never gonna knock me out."

ooooh mercy...

I am also getting the sinking revelation that the fact that i can talk for hours on political philosophy and spanish literature really won't help me get a job after i graduate....maybe its good to find out now, but on the other hand, ignorance would have been bliss for just a few months more...

posted by Kiki @ 8:41 a.m.