Everything will be ok – and other lies we tell ourselves

Here are some things you should know about me: I can predict the future. But only a fraction of a second before someone admits something serious to me, and then I need a glass of water to wash down how far my foot has gone down my throat. Second: I enjoy a tipple every now and again. Some days I keep it classy like a bride (one glass of champagne and water the rest of the night) and other times, well … the ellipse speaks for itself. Third: I have the great privilege of having an incredibly diverse group of friends. Sometimes when you throw them all in one room it’s hard to see how they all fit, and I love them all just the same.

My group of friends is so diverse because I’m not quite sure where I fit right now, a quarter life crisis if you will. Someone asked me how I was going to change the world, and channeling my inner Trudeau (who only appears when I'm under the influence) I said “just watch me.” These are some of the lies we tell ourselves. I’m not quite sure how he’s going to change the world either, he works for Goldman Sachs after all. That’s okay, he doesn’t read this blog anyway – but maybe he should. After such a long exposition, I’ll finally get to my thesis statement: regardless of how free floating I am right now, I’m going to land where I belong because, from what I’ve seen, everyone eventually does.

Just like any mediocre high school essay I’ll also come up with three arguments to defend my thesis. It all takes place in one event filled week.

Case Study #1

Monday: I was invited to a first year medicine post-exam celebration at a bar. Do I pass up husband hunting opportunities? Never. Medical students are just like you think they are. I was thinking to myself that I could definitely see myself as a patient etherized on a table (T.S. Eliot, anyone?) staring up at these people and confidently say, “Yes, these are my doctors.” They’re the type that after the exam all they want to talk about is the exam in their anatomy lab groups while at a bar. They wear sensible footwear, flats or low wedges and some even wear running shoes to a bar. And I don’t mean Chucks; I mean legit Asics or New Balance. Style/pragmatic tip (and not just for soon-to-be doctors): running shoes are meant for running. You’d think it sounds absurd, but you don’t wear Birkenstocks on a treadmill. Being Toronto, this is a wonderfully ethnically diverse crowd, immigrant children rising above adversity and filling minority quotients, this is truly the dream. But what baffled me, and perhaps in retrospect maybe it shouldn’t have, was that for the first time in my life the beloved bar staple “Don’t Stop Believin’” by Journey played at a bar and the entire place did not erupt in unanimous cheer and spontaneous fist pumping. Not even awkward white boy dancing was in sight. And then it dawned on me, perhaps these people got to where they are by not dancing on tables during their undergrad, maybe that’s where I went oh-so wrong. The DJ spun some top 40 too, and no one seemed to know “Down” by Jay Sean which is probably one of the most overplayed songs of today. And I get it; some people don’t turn on the radio or prefer classical music to aid their studies, that’s fine. But you can’t escape this song anywhere; I swear it plays when you go into a shoe store, a take-out shawarma place, and when you get your haircut. Don’t medical students do these things? And you can’t tell me that they are too much against “the man” to listen to top 40, they aren’t hipsters. Because if there’s one broad sweeping generalization that I am nearly 99.9% sure of is that hipsters don’t go to medical school.

Case Study #2

Tuesday: One thing a hipster might be is a writer, or maybe a poet. Maybe that’s emo kids, I’m honest to God not at all sure what the hell hipsters do with their time. The literary group is not one that I’m all too familiar with, but I felt the Giller Light Bash (congratulations Linden MacIntyre) would be a good introduction to aspiring writers and those who dabble in publishing. This group is not dissimilar to a lot of groups you may have seen in high school. The trendsters wearing less sensible shoes show up fashionably late (so as to spend less time in painful shoes?), and this crowd is a lot more artsy so there were interesting and colourful outfits to be sure. One thing I noticed was how the crowd seemed kind of short. Maybe because I was wearing 3 ½ inch heels and haven’t worn a pair of sensible shoes since 2007 (again, perhaps why I’m not a doctor), but I was at par, if not taller than a lot of the men in the room. Perhaps being a writer doesn’t involve as much in-person competition in meetings etc. thusly one does not need to be as physically imposing (see Case Study #3). Moreover, to my dismay, this group of people is seemingly not very good at listening. At several points in the evening the host, Lainey (!) spoke and was completely drowned out by a crowd that could not pause in hearing themselves talk.

Case Study #3

Saturday: And speaking of people who love to hear themselves talk, it brings me great pleasure to examine my final group of people who certainly belong together. Saturday brought out the best of the brightest of young Toronto alumni from my alma mater (I think my sarcasm metre just exploded). This semi-formal event brings out all the former student government types, who now all work as consultants, as well as lawyers, bankers and other finance types. In terms of analyzing what people are wearing, this group has an unfair advantage that the event called for semi formal attire, but really these gentlemen live in suits, so it probably wasn’t a far stretch in their closets. I do love the power ties though and the silent competition of whose can be more imposing. Also these men are almost all over six feet; naturally I was wearing 3 inch stilettos but this time I might have reached people’s noses. (unless that’s because their noses were so high in the air. Hey-o!) Oh but the ladies, they’re always my favourite. There must be something about working in corporate that makes people always dress in black on black. But it’s the weekend! Add some colour; it can’t physically harm a person. But I suppose black is the most slimming colour, after all this is a group of women that drinks vodka water. I thought I was serious about calories by drinking (six too many) vodka sodas, but once again I’ve been outdone. Vodka water – it gets you drunk and rehydrates you all at the same time! Few pairs of sensible shoes here, rather copious pairs of pointed toed black (duh) pumps. The pointed toe inflicts a vast amount more pain when they kick you in the shin should you get in their way.

I’m still not sure if I fit with any of these groups of people; I’d like to say I have the immigrant dreams of the doctors, the artsy flair of the writers and the ability to avoid getting a stiletto heel stuck in subway grates of the financers. But all of this doesn’t matter because everything is going to be okay, I’m sure of it. All of these people have found their way to each other, while it might take me a bit longer I’m sure I’ll find mine too and it’ll be just like going home. So if there are any sardonic, style-conscious, judgmental bloggers out there – call me.