The Recorded Where-abouts of Miss Brunette
August 14, 2006: Move In with Mr. Cop and his Family
Just moved into boyfriend's family home in order to wait for new place to finish its renovation. Gasp! Like what was I thinking? How many girls actually live with in-laws. Wait, I ain't married! Not many girls will ever have to go through what I went through. Thank goodness his family is awesome. His mother and sister are the best! His dad and his brother are from a different planet-but that's true of most men!
First Job in Canada
First job in Canada is as a model for Umm Magazine. Thanks to my boyfriend's sister, Miss Wild Card, she got me the job that was hosted at an exclusive golf course. Essentially what the job entailed was being a caddy. I don't know anything about golf or clubs but I learned how to drive the golf cart! It was such a great day! The guy's who had bid on me even won the golf tournament. They gave Miss Wild Card and I the winning Fossil watches! Life as a model wasn't seeming too bad except my stomach was hanging out of the little red shirt they gave us to wear. I'd also like to thank Miss Wild Card for taking me to the 2006 Toronto Beer Festival in which we got really trashed, ended up in the back of a squad car, and watched a bunch of beer vendors get in a fight with one of Miss Wild Card's brother who said we weren't going to a hotel pool party. Fine by me, I was already having a great time even though I couldn't get out of back of the squad car. Where is that lovely boyfriend of mine? Oh, he was breaking up the fight between the beer vendors and his brother.
Week of August 20-26: Signed with an Agent!
Yes, I've signed with an creative artist agent. Now if I get work-bravo! Canada isn't like the seventies with Americans running across the border to leave wars and bad debit behind. Today, It's difficult to work in this country. Media, press, and actors/celebrities/modela are the only ones that don't need the special skilled worker permit. Lucky me! I'm in a media related industry but I don't know anyone. A weekend job at BCBG is out of the question. Maybe I should lower my calorie intake and think about getting a boob job to push my model career.....no, I don't think so. Haha. I think I'll wait for my agent to get me work.
Week of August 27- September 2: The Burn-Out!
Things are less dramatic. Downright boring and what causes the last straw to break the camel's back is that my boyfriend is working so much I, honest to god, haven't had a single moment with him in three weeks! He's not a complete dunce and he takes me up north to his grandparent's farm for a weekend get-away. It was heaven! So beautiful! But, he does manage to take a romantic time and turn it into a bad camp experience when he says the absolute wrong thing at the wrong time. I'm not going to repeat it but any girl will know what I'm talking about when she says that a guy knows how to kill a romantic mood. It almost made the weekend sink. However a walk through the woods cleared things up. Still, things aren't in balance and I'm still loosing energy at being able to commit to this relationship.
Week of September 3-18: I'm done with it!
Friday 8, 2006, Mr. Cop never calls home to tell me that he's partying with the boys. He's off work at 5:00. I call at 7:00pm. I hear him at a bar with a girl laughing next to him. I practically hang up. I'm totally over it. I want California back and he's giving me a great reason to go. In fact, the rye drinking, Mr. Cop, sends a text message at 8:10 saying that he'd be home by 8:30pm. Two hours later, he stumbles in smelling like whiskey. I don't even want to talk to him because the whole thing that had been brewing for the last month is that he NEVER communicates what he's doing. I understand time with the guys but he fucked up. I left his family's house and went with his sister, Miss Wild Card, to some local bars. Mr. Cop wanted to come with us but I told him not tonight. I was going to have my fun and let him sit at hom and see how he likes it. I felt like I had been sitting at home for the last month waiting for him. He hadn't even taken me out on to a club, bar, or a date for the entire time I had been in Toronto. Actually, it's still that way. Moving is tough and this move has been tough like a cowboy riding a bull in the dark. Anyhow, I didn't even finish my first beer when Mr. Cop taps me on my shoulder and says he wants to hang out. I still loved seeing him even though I want to spank him. He drove his sister and I to some clubs downtown, one club is even rumored to be owned by the infamous Hell's Angels. Speaking of which, when I entered the club I had my ballpoint pen removed from my purse. I was like what? The bouncer told me that it was considered a weapon because I could stab with it! They weren't kidding. I bribed a bouncer later that night and he got it back for me. What a sweetie! The next day, Mr. Cop and I had made up. We were getting ready to take a walk to a park when he was sitting in front of the TV and he said that Monday he was going to a funeral. Ah, okay. Not a problem. I've only spent three days with him but a funeral doesn't happen everyday. Mr. Cop adds on that he and a couple of buddies would be driving seven something hours to a city beyond Albany, NY for the funeral. What? Yeah, he kept going, seven hours there and seven hours back. Who's the funeral for? Mr. Cop responds, oh, I don't know, the guy that died is one of the canadian mounty's that got shot in a shoot out. Uh...is the rest of the Toronto police force going? Mr. Cop gets quiet and responds, no. I'm pissed. He tells me this on Saturday and I'm done again. The funeral sounds more like a road trip to New York than honoring the dead. What about the living? I keep asking why I moved out here early because this relationship is starting to dig its own hole. Mr. Cop appologizes and tells me that he isn't going. He said he thought it would have been cool but he forgot that he hadn't been spending any time with me. You might forget, but I don't. I'm offically burned-out on love. I want to go home. I called my family late Sunday evening while hiding in the bathroom and using a blow-dryer to make a wall of noise so that Mr. Cop's family wouldn't hear me. As it turned out, not an ounce of privacy, his mom heard my entire conversation as she lay in bed. I need a change.
Week of September 18-Today: Our Place
We moved into our place. It's beautiful. The owner of the building allowed my interior design skills to help with lighting, paint, and design. As Mr. Cop promised, he said everything would be great once we had our own space. Are things better? Yes and no. I'm still waiting for him to put energy into building a strong relationship. Most of our free moments include his friends hanging out at our place. I told him to not buy a $1700+ LCD flat screen TV because the quality wasn't there. We got the TV yesterday and the picture looks like shit. He woke up around 1Pm, went to a hockey practice, and then went to pick up a HDTV cable box in hopes the TV works right.
What's a relationship to do?
Time and patience are in order. I must try before quitting. But, I know that I can't keep feeling lonely, isolated, sad, foreign, and those sort of things. I'll work at my career. I'll work at my writing and I'll keep up the quest for good design. None of that has to do with building a good relationship. It has been unbelievably hard and I couldn't walk last month twice if I had too.
If any one has got any good pointers on how to meet the man of your dreams, move to a different country to be with him, and keep it alive, then please send advice ASAP.
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