Category Archives: Coffee Talk

The Month of the Moves

It’s been a time.

Days and days of lifting, carrying, pushing, pulling, boxing, unboxing, huffing, sweating and crying.

And it’s not even over yet. Three people moving in the same weekend in February is extremely ill advised. Coffee, I believe, is the only thing keeping me from the sharp edge of oblivion at this point.

Nothing makes you never want to buy an item of furniture again, or even look at one for that matter, like having to up and relocate oneself, one’s sister and one’s brother in law. The joy of this particular event though, was a severe lack of assistance and direction. Christopher is decidedly absent in the process, as well as said brother in law, and the rest of my immediate family has high tailed it to the Caribbean for the week as well.

It can all be summed up with one emphatic word: Exhaustion.

Wish me luck in the remainder of the process, and with hope I may crawl away alive, with a lovely new place for Smudge and I to live. I can’t wait to show it off!

Smudge and Ma

-Hailey Jane


New Youtube Video!

Everybody watch!!

Oh man, I’m such a tool….Oh well, such is life.

xx

-Miss Hailey Jane


Christmas in London

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London at Christmas is, by far, the most magical place on the planet. Since visiting I have developed a deep and unwavering love of how the English flawlessly pull off this widespread holiday. I’m nearly convinced there is no actual North Pole, but instead Santa holds up in a little shop on a side street of London. Between the lights along Regent Street, The Eye, the Museums lit up at night and every single square inch of Harrods there is really no comparison to anything I’ve ever seen before; Or smelled for that matter. On Westminster Bridge there is always someone selling roast chestnuts and the moment I laid nostrils on them I would have sworn I’d never smelled anything so scrumptious.

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In North America, Christmas seems to be ALL about the commercialism, the shopping, the spending, the economy boosting power of women with credit cards and men with no time so will essentially buy anything. We just survived Black Friday and here in Canada, and although it’s not the crowd control nightmare that it is in America, I still don’t like going within a mile of any major shopping centre. I won’t dwell on the details of this strange and unnecessary tradition because frankly, it’s stressing me out. Bottom line is the ‘Holidays’  here are not so much about giving people time off to spend with their family and loved ones. They’re about long hours, out-doing both yourself and others around you, and stress in general.

While in London and its’ surrounding boroughs during the weeks leading up to Christmas, I felt a certain magical charm that came from somewhere in this city. Whether it was the meat pies in shop windows, Christmas puddings on display, a light and magical snowfall, subtle twinkling lights on everything or just the general cheeriness of everyone about, it was so lovely I swear my heart grew three sizes and I genuinely felt the true meaning of Christmas.

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So now, every year I scramble around, desperately trying to find that feeling again. I walk the streets at night, I peer into all the shop windows, I brew all the mulled wine, cider and hot chocolate I can get my hands on, but something about it all is missing. There is a London factor that’s been absent from my Christmas’s for the past few years, and no matter how hard I try to infuse it into this culture, I am simply unable to recreate it.

 

It may just be magic after all.

– Hailey Jane


Should Really Give This a Name…

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Hello Friends and welcome back to Coffee and Turtlenecks!

I have the pleasure of reporting that this week is the anniversary of this mildly entertaining blog! That’s right, believe it or not, I’ve been posting occasionally here at this imaginary place on the internet for FOUR years now! WOW, I can hardly believe it. There’s a grand total of something like 109 posts, which is a terrible average of one every two months, but let’s not look into the numbers too much. Point is, I’m still here, typing away, and dancing to strange Greek music that you’re probably glad you can’t hear. Let’s pretend that I’m just doing my best to seriously research my content….A horribly overused cliché would say something like ‘The Mona Lisa took four years to complete!’, but that would allude to an absent quality of work on these pages, as well as hint at something of an ego in the author, which we all know if extremely far from the truthiest of truths.

Thanks to all my readers of the years, and the lovely comments I get from you! It’s been fun, which is why I still do it. Life motto: If you don’t like something, don’t do it. Key to happiness right there folks.

My aspirations for this blog are grand, but in reality I’m sure you can expect more random posts about the hilarious ways I embarrass myself in my day to day life. My sister and I took a trip to Chicago in September, so maybe one day when the meed strikes me I’ll share some of that experience.

Help me keep Coffee and Turtlenecks alive! Comment, Like, Follow, Twitter…Hell, you can email me if you want! I’m always up for a chat..

Which reminds me, I’ve successfully acquired a penpal from the UK thanks to this blog, and I’m happy to say that it’s going well, the recipient of my letters is not in jail and has been enjoying them very much, as I enjoy the responses!

I’m happy to chat so don’t be a stranger!

Lots of Love!

-Hailey Jane

xx

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Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCHcFYKNPVDgbeHgkGEz9ZCg/videos

Email: coffeeandturtlenecks@gmail.com

Twitter: @therealhaileyj

Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/HaileyJW88/

 


Goo Hoarders Anonymous

“What is it with women? By far the strangest thing about them, of all the things, is their propensity to hoard ‘Goo’.”

– Boyfriend being terribly honest

Only just now I noticed the extent of my habit, as I went to shower and reached for no less than the following products:

Sephora Cleansing Milk

Clagon Lavender Honey bath salts

Balea Ginsing Face Mask

Skintimate Aloe Vitamin E Shave Cream

iSo Toning Violet Shampoo

Joico K-Pak Reconstructing Conditioner

Olay Cucumber Body Wash

Clinique Dry Combination Skin Toner

No7 Protect and Perfect Day Cream

And I haven’t even thought about doing my makeup yet! (Which is another shitshow of powdery, gooey ridiculousness)

And look at what I did at Sephora by accident a while ago!?! Completely powerless!

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I have no idea why it’s so difficult to simplify the bathing and beauty process. My Boyfriend has one product for literally everything, and if he could get away with not using it, he would.

I have developed the inability to pass up purchasing fancy bottles of wet, empty, promises; compacts of pressed uncertainty, and tubes of pearlescent regret. Not to mention the landslide of white creamy jars of mystery goo that every company is toting as the next big miracle.

Even Queen Jenna Marbles admits to being a ‘Goo hoarder’, and I would easily believe a scary amount of the female and male populous is in the same, rather tippy, boat.

Why do I need these things? Why do I keep wanting more and more of basically the same brownish powders, thinking the next thing will be the last I’ll ever want? Who knows… (I ponder as I happily browse the MAC website for quads and brushes…) Is there a support group for this I wonder? Probably Youtube….but tutorial videos only make my habit worse.

There are upsides to this condition, which I’ve ardently rationalized to myself, of course.  I don’t have to worry about how big my arms or thighs may look in a particular lipstick, make-up fits everyone! It’s also a fun and exciting purchase that really doesn’t take up a lot of space. Some people may not see this as an upside, but as a human being who just moved every single item she owns into storage or a small bedroom, tiny yet nice things suddenly have a certain pleasant appeal.

The long as short of it is, it’s a thing the world wants us to do, and the majority of us are more than happy to play along. It’s no more useless than the parts for broken cars my Boyfriend buys, or the plants my mother puts in the garden every year that will inevitably die in the fall. If it makes us happy and doesn’t hurt, or even really bother anyone else, then that is reason enough to continue our business in the gooey bubble that is our lives.

Goo hoarders rejoice, and embrace our slippery, sparkly way of life!

-Hailey Jane

No Judging!

xx

 


How To Enjoy The Perfect Latte’: Part II

Alternate Title: How To Actually Make a Latte’

Knowing your way around an espresso machine, take the double shot espresso handle out, empty it with a few bangs if it’s full, scrape any excess grinds out and then fill with extra fine ground espresso grinds.

Fresh Espresso

Tamp and twist firmly with a tamper until it’s packed perfectly then attach it to the espresso machine with a quarter turn to the right. Place the desired coffee holding vessel underneath and begin to pour the shot.

Gorgeous Crema

While the shot is pouring, steam your milk, whole milk for a flat white, 2% if for a regular latte and skim for those strange people who like them skinny. Soy or Almond Milk steams slightly differently, we’ll just pretend no one asked for that today. Fill the steaming cup with a bit more very cold milk than you will need, add a thermometer, then put the steam nozzle all the way to the bottom and turn on the steam by turning the nob to the left.

A barista steams milk for the 'Barista Throwdown' competition.

Open it nearly all the way and slowly raise the nozzle to the surface of the milk, and tilt the cup to get a swirling motion going in the milk, as the volume increases hold your position until the temperature of the milk reaches 140 degrees F, be particularly careful not to exceed 160, it’ll burn the milk. Remove nozzle once the correct temperature is reached and there is evidence of the microfoam you’re looking for, the soft tiny bubbles that leave the top looking like thick wet paint. Skim milk will naturally look less creamy, and if you’re doing a cappuccino feel free to steam with harder foam, bigger bubbles by lifting the nozzle slightly out of the milk while steaming for quick bursts.

The owner of the cafe foams milk for waiting customers.

Once the shot is done pouring, grab your milk and a spoon if desired and pour the milk over the shot. Use a spoon to separate the milk from the foam as you pour, or just pour more quickly and wait as it separates in the cup. There will be a bit more foam this way.

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To achieve the latte art design, tilt the mug and pour onto the side of the mug then in strategic motions, breaking through the espresso crema (or film ontop), wavering and wobbling the milk rhythmically then cutting across the top of the circles made will produce the iconic heart or rosette shape in your latte. Garnish with cinnamon or cocoa if desired, now sit back and enjoy your home made perfect latte!

Now repeat 100 times a day and curse the uselessness of your joint major Honours Science Degree in Psychology and Anthropology.

Latte’ Art Tutorial: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NItrlTwbvAU

.NOM
-Hailey Jane


How To Enjoy The Perfect Latte’: Part I

Nothing quite hits the spot on a rainy afternoon like a cup of hot, dark, rich and creamy espresso. A comfortable push of motivation in the onwards and upwards direction. They are the most wonderful thing to enjoy, but first, you’ve got to acquire one.

You have two basic options. The first includes going out into the world to find the perfect little cafe on a drizzly main street.

City rain

In a semi-lit room with brick and terracotta coloured walls, the atmosphere envelops you and a thick warm smell of coffee drifts into your nose as you walk inside to shake off your umbrella and coat from the cool autumn rain. Looking up, seeing all of the other wayward souls that stop momentarily here for fleeting moments in their lives, passing them without too much thought a face greets you over a counter with a nonchalant acknowledgement through thick dark glasses.

Coffee shop

You hear the faint melancholy chords of a Neil Young or Leonard Cohen song and the subtle clinking of coffee mugs as a worker clears away the perfect table by the window. Once given the go ahead, you ask for your latte and make the decision for a fresh scone as well, Or was it the biscotti? You hear the steamer whistle as your milk is made ready, and glance around at the local art that hangs on the walls.

Cappuccino

Before you know it, your beverage is being handed to you in exchange for a handful of coins that until just now had lived in the bottom of your jeans pocket. On top of the delicious coffee in your bright ceramic mug there is a gorgeous layer of the tiniest microbubbles that make up a soft, smooth and heavenly foam. Much to your pleasant surprise there is an arrangement of swooping and bending dark coloured espresso lines tracing their way through the foam, leaving behind a gorgeous heart shaped pattern. You almost feel guilty, being about to eat it and all, but not guilty enough to stop you.

Ever so gently walking over to that perfect table by the rain spotted window, sitting down and letting all the tension flow out your feet. Relaxed, you pick up your mug, close your eyes and sip strongly and deeply. A small, light patch of foam sticks to your top lip but it is no matter, you have successfully enjoyed a perfect latte.

-Hailey Jane


Q&A With the Turtleneck Lady

Greetings from the cafe!

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I’m going to do things a bit differently today, it will be as if we’re having a chat, except that the conversation is going to be alarmingly one sided, because that’s how most of the internet works.

Oh, and I wanted to run a quick idea past you, if that’s alright?  I’ve gone out and sent away for a lovely and fantastic pastel pink, short, curly, synthetic lace front wig! Which I am aware is a lot of words to describe one thing. But anyway, I was wondering what everyone thinks about the two options for its use.

Option 1) Is to use it for Vlog posts, as a confidence boosting alter ego of sorts?

Option 2) I would bust it out when I embark on my next travelling adventure (this is assuming I get my funds and ethics in order) so I would be not only extremely recognizable out and about, but it would help with how nasty my hair gets when I travel. Let me explain.

I’m thinking a serious backpacking excursion across Europe, and even when I go to England for a few weeks at a time, I ALWAYS have a hard time finding somewhere reliable to wash/style my high maintenance hair while couch surfing. There isn’t enough dry shampoo in the world to sort out that mess on my head. Seriously…hear me out…This way I won’t have to deal with nasty, greasy, ratchet hair as often. Assuming this works, it will make me feel all that much better leading to a generally better experience. I clearly would still shower, but I would be less concerned with how my hair dries, or having to shower just to fix it…which, let’s be honest, is 100% why I shower every day or so when I’m at home. Not for cleanliness…but so my hair doesn’t look stupid. Cleanliness is a convenient by product. This is what my life is.

Let me know your thoughts…or any other ideas you have for the use of this marvellously colourful coiffure. Either way, I’m super excited, even if I only get to use it once, to channel Courtney Act at a friend’s Drag Queen Party. You know you love the idea. 😀

Question time!

Why Coffee and Turtlenecks?

“This is a very legitimate question, because it still doesn’t make a whole lot of sense. In truth, they are two things that I enjoy thoroughly that are also a great comfort to me. I wanted this place…this imaginary space on the wide web…to feel cozy, inviting and warm, which describes my chosen title just nicely. It’s also got a bit of a ring to it, which is a plus. I do feel like I don’t talk about turtlenecks enough, particularly because of the number of turtleneck related search terms sending people here. To be honest, there are only so many things you can say about a type of shirt before people stop listening and start worrying about your mental health, and I wouldn’t want to give too much away.”

Why haven’t you done any more Vlog posts?

“Also a legitimate question. It has a simple answer that can be narrowed down to the fact that my spontaneous two weeks of self confidence seems to have vanished, and I will get right back to making them as soon as it returns in the mail.”

Do you think Blogging is a self centered and narcissistic pastime and promotes those ideals in the current generation?

“I absolutely do, (betcha’ didn’t see that one coming!) and I am reminded of it every day when my boyfriend sees (catches) me Blogging. I push past that guilt with ferocity because I like to write, and I hope that what comes out is actually beneficial to the world or at least enjoyable. If you don’t think you’re good at what you do, then no one else is going to. And hey, even Van Gogh had a thing for selfies.”

Van Gogh

What advice do you have for someone who wants to start Blogging?

“I’m not exactly the person with the best collection of tips in this department. I would still call myself ‘starting out’ and I’ve been doing it on and off for nearly three years. Just update with thoughtful posts that you are proud of regularly, and see what happens. It’s luck mostly. My most popular posts are one’s that I’m not the most thrilled with, they just happen to have a thing people are searching for in them, like Spermaceti, Ian McEwan’s Atonement and PG Tips. Who knew the world wanted to know so much about whale oil, modern English Literature and tea.  Why do I know so much about whale oil, modern English Literature and tea? I guess I’m just awesome.”

Do you have Instagram?

“No, Apple products are dumb and I don’t believe in them, like unicorns. BBM me anytime though!  Also…on that note, social media sites kill SO much of my time and steal little tiny pieces of my soul daily. Lately the slow internet at home where I’m living has rendered tumblr useless, which is actually kinda refreshing. I imagine that’s what quitting smoking feels like. I am no longer a slave to the never ending roll of gifs and benign fandom updates. Now I just need to get off of Pinterest, Facebook and crack. Crack might be the easiest.”

What’s your favourite band?

“Right now, I’m in love with this English group from Norwich called Box of Light. I’ll link a video for you. It’s delightful and Melon is the bubbliest rockstar I’ve ever seen. I just want to snuggle her. They’ll be huge, I can feel it.”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jAV545oRJb8&feature=kp

Best book you’ve read this year?

“By far it has to be Nabokov’s Lolita. I didn’t just read this book,. I destroyed it. I wrote essays in the margins, I went back searching for passages to re-read. I watched several Ivy League lectures on the subject just to figure it out. I am now a Lolita expert! It’s so much more than what people think it is…Read it, you won’t regret it. If I get the time, and find the words to describe how magical it is justly, then I will do a post on it for you.”

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One last question for you dear, do you think you will ever stop writing?

“I hope not. I’ve loved keeping a journal, writing short stories, really bad poetry (which you’ll never see because it’s THAT bad) since I was in grade school, I don’t think my life would feel right without it. I’ve got a serious story or two inside me, and until I can find a way to get them out properly, there’s not really an end in sight.”

Well that’s good news!

Thanks so much for stopping by, as always it’s been a delight!

-Hailey Jane

 


There’s Nothing Worse Than Getting What You Want

Life lesson time…

(Because I don’t have kids to instil this valuable knowledge into…and my dog doesn’t really seem interested.)

Noting my credentials as your friendly local Blogger, I would seriously ask you to reconsider making a living (or a small fraction of one in my case) off of what you like doing most. Your hobbies, your favourite things to escape into. Don’t, I repeat, DO NOT aspire to make it your day job.

Some arbitrary examples that in no way refer to things I’ve done in the past:

Say you’re around twenty one years old, and you really REALLY love books. Like…not just reading them, but searching them out, smelling them, particularly the old yellowing pages of volumes once loved by someone else for years. Your heart flutters at the feel of fraying bindings, and the rough texture of a hardcover that’s lived an exciting life. You think, “Gosh, I’d be infinitely happy if only I could be surrounded by these ageing bodies of wisdom and knowledge all day every day…My dream job would be to work in that there local used bookstore.”


Bookshelf

All sounds fine and dandy as you dream about blowing the dust off of boxes of linguistic treasure, finding a new home for these magical collections of life stories, scientific texts and fiction that challenges the literary genius of Nabokov or Tolstoy. Then one day, you are made aware of an opening at said local used bookstore for part time work. This news makes your day. The friend of yours who worked there was moving on, which left a vacancy that you are tickled pink to have the chance to fill. She puts in a good word for you. Because why wouldn’t they want to hire you, you are vastly overqualified in both formal education and general knowledge of worldly things. And of course…you “Absolutely adore books” which is said at least twice during the interview that you are over the moon to receive. Regardless of the terrible hours and lack of government approved pay rate, you are happy to start your life as a clever purveyor of books, and  feel also like you are preforming an important social service, helping those in need find the words they are looking for that will change their life.

You start by shelving the ‘new intakes’, and a quick look at the box reveals that they are all absolute fluff. One hundred percent old lady porn. Romance novels all bent along the spine where the dirty bits are. You quickly learn that this particular shop specializes in a lending library sort of system where old books are bought and sold back to the store by old ladies who get their kicks reading about unrealistic love affairs between knights and princesses, long haired Fabio types and fragile female characters who can’t think for themselves. Hundreds come in and out every day. The other half of business is divided up between mystery novels, Sci-Fi, Grisham and Patterson type Fiction and whatever new releases you manage to get in. Which is approximately ten. Because no one sells their brand new books right away. There is a respite in the depressing Non-Fiction section in the back, but it unfortunately looks like a bomb went off and the dust only just settled. Stacks of DIY and irrelevant biographies lay everywhere and you better have a winning lottery ticket in your pocket if you’re looking for a specific book back there.

You learn your boss lives in the back room with his cat, and is not exactly the friendly, eccentric old bookstore owner that you imagined. But an angry easily perturbed man in the crisis point of his life, who takes groups fishing for too much money when the weather is nice. After being in charge of the store when a customer accidentally broke a lamp, and to then have a strip torn off you by the boss for it, you feel like maybe this five dollar an hour business isn’t exactly worth it.

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Say you’re around twenty four years old, after months of applying for jobs in this new city you moved to nearly a year ago, and after a terrible bout working as a cashier at a grocery superstore which made you want to choke people with different kinds of produce, you get a chance to work at the Holy Grail of National book companies. The holder of the literary monopoly from Sea to shining Sea, the keeper of all that is new and exciting in the world of the precious book! Of course you’re going to say yes to a position at the helm of this (arguably, sinking) industry! Or at least you figure close to the helm, as who interviews you seems like they’re in charge (Spoiler: You are wrong). You agree to a minimum wage start, because it sounds like there is lots of opportunity for raise and promotion.

new bookstore

What they don’t tell you, is, you will get all of the worst shifts, be called in last minute nearly weekly and be criticized and humiliated if ‘heaven forbid’ you have plans on your day off. The person in charge is a megalomaniac from the BIG city who apparently only knows Business 101 Buzzwords like ” Our Process” and “Streamline” or “Zeitgeist”, “Paradigm Shift”, “Bundling”, “Synergy” and “Efficiency” which translate to “We will work you like a mule for hardly any pay,  until your soul pours out your nostrils and we can keep it in a jar in the office until you don’t recall you ever had one”.

They “forget” your six month review and hold off your first precious ten cent raise for months, they neglect to define your role so they can make anything “your job” on a whim and criticize you for not doing it. You get reamed out daily for not “Collecting (Re: Begging) enough cash Donations” which the company uses to a) look like a charitable organization and b) bestow as gift certificates that sell product at the regular horrifyingly marked up price. You eventually stop trying to get as many unsuspecting customers as possible to sign up for the loyalty program that tracks their purchases and encourages more thoughtless buying through annoying daily emails.

You stop believing that this was once a good place, where people could enjoy life and find a book to escape into, and you only see it as a place where someone can come up to beg you for a discount on a softcover you saw them deliberately rip the cover off of, they throw a fit and get the deal from a manager anyway, who made you look like a fool in front of them for talking a stand. You start to dread the day they might eventually ask you to sneak up behind unsuspecting customers and steal their wallets or car keys. You decide you need out. You need freed from the corporate mentality where you are just a number, a peon, 100% replaceable, which you are. Once your enthusiasm for useless products is gone, once you’ve been thoroughly disillusioned and realize it’s not a bookstore anymore and just a sanctuary for brightly coloured, cheap, useless crap, they the pick a fresh crop of smiling faces, ready and eager to have their soul extracted in the name of “A love for books”. They didn’t care if you knew a thing about books, as long as you could sell them. No measly 30% discount is worth that kind of mental torture. And you’re not even mentioning the Special HELL that is Christmas at the Mall.

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Say you’re around twenty five years old, and after the spirit crushing experience with corporate Canada, you are offered a part time gig at a local independent cafe’ downtown. Hallelujah! You say! Finally the quaint and cozy job serving people hot cups of caffienated love day in and out. Happy people who are glad you drew a face in their latte’, couldn’t be happier you added an extra carrot on their sandwich plate, working for a person who’s face you see on a daily basis. That’s the life! And by god! Tips! You’ll make extra money! What a concept… It all looks like it will work out just fine!

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You are trained on a gruelling schedule requiring memorizing more than you needed to in your four year University Science program. The assistant manager is an anal French perfectionist who is surprisingly terrible with customers, harbouring a strangely successful hate-hate relationship with them. You only see the Owner when you’re getting reprimanded for putting the napkins in upside-down and opening your mouth and talking to someone who wasn’t a customer, or when getting paid in cash which feels more like a drug deal then an exchange of services for fair wages. The latter event seems to happen less and less often, getting pushed weeks behind because he neglects to show up while you’re working. Your hours are cut back to less than the legal shift length, or cancelled all together an hour or two before you’re supposed to start. You’re not paid for the last half hour of your night shift because you only get paid half an hour after close, but there is still more work that needs done and it better be done the next morning or there will be a big scary French Cafe’-Nazi on your ass.

You exhaust yourself daily trying to find things to do to look busy when it’s slow or they will send you home and you won’t make enough to justify the travel costs to work. Free coffee doesn’t pay the rent, and the latte’ you get per shift is starting to lose it’s lustre’.  Getting to work with espresso eventually doesn’t make up for all of the foul smelling tuna and egg salad sandwiches you have to make for the daily regulars who somehow manage to have less of a social life than you. Regulars that are not happy about the extra carrot on their plate, and violently complain when it is no longer there. You go home smelling like pickles, coffee and sweat and the tips you made didn’t pay for the bus ride home, which you waited 45 minutes for in minus thirty degree weather, on a dodgy city street at midnight. You stepped over a puddle of human blood to get here…is this what you really want?

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The fantastical idea of all of these different positions is in theory wonderful. All are appealing and have a way of attracting themselves to you by including something you love already, old books, new books, coffee. But now and forever these aspects of life will tainted by the experience of doing it for a living. Going for a hot drink at a local cafe’ will always come with a cringe and feeling of empathy towards the poor barista getting scolded for too much foam on a latte. A trip to the bookstore will be a horror or horrors, completely unenjoyable, watching mindless moneybags shop like toddlers throwing tantrums for things they really don’t need. And the used bookstore becomes a pit of old books no one wants anymore. A hole where the unwanted fall and rot for years collecting dust, and anything worth buying is lost on a shelf behind thousands of other volumes by no-name authors from the eighties.

I’m not saying you should stay away from being employed at these types of places, because everyone extracts what they want and need from each kind of situation. What I’m saying is try to avoid taking a job that has little merit other than it being something you enjoy doing in your free time. The niceties and pleasure you get from that activity will be changed forever, and if that job has no other merits, such as pay or pleasant people to work with, you may be in for a bumpy and uncomfortable ride.

Thanks for stopping by!

-Hailey Jane


On Disappointment


on disappointment     My dog looks at me, eyes wide and piercing, stone still. Not even a twitch in her top lip…but I sit.    Still.    I say No. She knows I’m not moving.

Defeated she flops down at my feet and either naps or pretends to. She has lost, but neither of us are happy with the results of our efforts.

Life is full of things we’d all rather be doing but a lot of the time it just doesn’t work out in our favour.

I’ve felt those piercing eyes of disappointment many times. Every time it hurts me, because of my attempts to keep the collection of parties involved content.  Happy.  At bay.

Compromise isn’t always an option. I wish it were.

The morning light shines on the world I now call home, and it is Beautiful. The sun will come up again on those who have been left wanting, and they will eventually forget; Move on.

Everyone moves on.

People are fluid. Viscous. Parts of them drip and stain the lives of others. As long as one avoids drowning in them, then the storms will pass. And the grass will be greener for it.

-Hailey Jane