Yes I can brand. Yes I can promote myself, or promote my business, and I can even endure the hard work that it entails (in theory).

But what if one blog doesn’t make sense?
What if one brand doesn’t make sense?

I have a different personality for every day of the week. Maybe not that many, and they certainly don’t come out for specific days, but it feels like my interests differ substantially. So much that I become a different person for each.

But they’re all me. Every one is important to my life and every one is something that deserves a voice.

I cam set aside the whims, the fads, and every character that comes to mind after a particularly good TV show.

But even when I break it down, I’m still being pulled in more than one direction. Even when I push aside the things that I enjoy but don’t do every day.

I’m the writer

The real estate agent

The performer

The sex kitten.

That last one is more of a work-in-progress than the others. The only thing that hasn’t changed since I was 4 is the writer. And even within that my tastes have evolved. I’m the fantasy writer, the wannabe chick lot novelist, the non fiction articler….

Each path takes on its own personality. The real estate agent can’t brand the same as the performer. And how do I cross over the writer and the kitten?

It wasn’t a problem when these people were one university student – and the realtor didn’t exist. The student was so dominant that everything else just fell into place behind it. Except the performer. I lost her for four years, and we’ve only recently reconciled.

But here I am, one foot in the real world, and I’m stuck. Which one is dominant now?

And then we get into blogging. I like this advice, but how do I know what to choose first? Each person wants her day. And can you really switch from one to another?

How can I write about real estate one day and tackle writer’s block the next? Yes, it would make sense to have personal and professional blogs in that event. Or would it? Which becomes most important to promote?

The writer will always be the strongest mindset. It’s what drives my soul. But even when I was little, I wanted to do more than one thing. (I know because I used to give my favourite Barbie dolls the jobs I wanted. Most of them haven’t changed…)

I can bitch about hard work for days. But how do I decide what’s most important in my life? Everything in life directs people to one thing. Pick something your good at and go for it. And some people are built for that.

All I can see is everything I want to do, everything that drives me, and even when I manage to rule out the things that can wait, four personas remain with multiple interests.

Some parts overlap. The writer splits into four and falls into those other groups just as easily as she stands alone. But what do I follow? If each thing has it’s own personality to go with it.

I just want to be one person who does all those things. Buy how do I know which me is me?

What a quote from Walter J. Schneider, co-founder of Remax Ontario-Atlantic.

I think it’s something that I forget and it’s somewhat easy to do in today’s society. You see so many people famous for nothing or thrust into limelight from one small act (giving birth to six kids), even people who must have worked for it, from singers and actors to entrepreneurs. All we see is the good stuff: the fame, the fortune, and how easy it is for a well-known celebrity to move into acting, singing… No one pays attention to the work. People write books about nothing, make millions with one bit of luck – the exceptions to the rule.

But society makes us believe it’s always that easy. Even shows that focus on people living in luxury that show they still have problems… even they can’t quite capture that they work. It’s not about hard work. It’s about social events, networking and using status, fame, and money to fulfill their dreams.

Which is good. Everyone deserves to fulfill their dreams. The difference is that we don’t see the work that goes into it.

And yes, not everyone works (sorry Paris) but people do. People work incredibly hard to get to fame. And even if they aren’t the most talented, or have the same natural gift for something or even work AS hard at someting as another… They have determination. Commitment. Consistency. They don’t get their dreams by default. They put in hard work. Maybe it’s not what some people do – I know would-be writers bitter hat someone can have a bestselling book when they haven’t done an MA in creative writing, or taken classes, even languished over a novel. But a person who can buckle down and push past all their obstacles to accomplish something like that deserves it just as much as someone with talent, maybe more.

But it’s hard to do that. It’s hard to do work. It’s so much simpler to hate someone else believing things are handed to them, and to feel self-pity. It’s harder to consider that even socialites work hard. That any Disney starlet had to work for what they’ve got.

Because if they worked hard then there really is only one way. We’d have to go out and achieve something. Sit down and write the novel that’s been on the back-burner instead of envying people who sign six figure deals.

And I can fully admit that I am lazy. I don’t work hard. I’ve always been naturally inclined to things, talented and quick to pick things up. Good habits were never my focus. So what now?

I can say I know hard work breeds success but can I convince myself? How do I put that mantra into action?

I know it sounds ridiculous considering I have no money to my name, have student loans, and can’t quite guarantee when my next commission will come in. But I do. It’s what I’ve wanted since I was 16. I blame a book. A brilliant book for women on smart investing that completed changed my way of thinking and made me hate the idea of renting.

This is my problem.. I go from one peak to another, living in a state somewhere between the present, a daydream, and the future. Not always a problem, if I could separate them from one another. See the future as the future and take a step in the present to achieve it.

But I don’t. And it’s not getting me anywhere. I tend to place a huge emphasis on achieving something in order to do something else which will let me do etc. etc. etc. And maybe it’s true. I have no idea because I can’t even make that first step – it’s so huge. To place that much stock on one event thrusts me into a make or break situation. Which means that when the situation doesn’t go my way, when something slides out of place, it’s like a house of cards.

Everything falls.

And I have to start over from the beginning.

It’s how I’ve learned to operate, though. Carefully building up a house of cards… stacking them piece by piece, all relying on something that is borderline impossible. Maybe not impossible, but something that’s a stretch. Something I would need to work at, that wouldn’t fall into my hands.

And then a world can come tumbling down, bit by bit, just from that.

The appointment itself was mundane. Just the regularly scheduled teath cleaning and guilt over not flossing followed by my reward of free toothpaste and brush. I should have asked for a sensodyne one though. I’m wondering if its any different than my love affair with crest. My dentist doesn’t give out crest, just colgate which I pass along to my father and his horrid British teeth.

I love the Brits, I can never say that enough, but there is a generation there that just does not understand dental hygiene.

But although I despise the art of waking up early in the morning, I really enjoy being awake early. I feel productive and on fire, like I’m set to accomplish a lot.

TheN I came home. Home for me is like taking a hit of Novocain. My entire world slows down and I get sluggish and all those merry little goals slip farther and farther away. It has a simple solution.. Stop coming home. But I’m a homebody by nature and love to relax. Can’t do that in a starbucks early in the morning (the line alone…) and I don’t enjoy taking my laptop with me. Lazy. I know.

But even though my morale took a serious knocking here at home, I’m still going to make the lane swim at the pool. Have to. I’ve been skimping on the exercise part of my change project and it’s going to bother me.

After that, who knows. I’ve got my short list of things that I need every day (real estate weirdly did not make that list but it’s in there somehow) and instead of coccooning myself, I think I’ll go for a change of scenery.

But I’m trying to do this reinvention and have to keep making steps. Self-discipline is probably my biggest enemy of change.. my gremlin is not a huge believer in it. But I’m following this site on tracking happiness and if anything, it’ll spur me to do things. Yes, things. I am so descriptive within my life.

Baby steps. Right? Baby steps. I did a wicked faux-hawk last Friday night to go out, and felt like a completely different person. I thought I’d feel like a poser since it’s out of character for me to be that edgy (or so I think) but it was fine. They loved it, I loved it.

It was a tough step to envision myself as something other than what I’ve been trained into thinking… but that’s the first part of change.

After all, how can you really change if your mind doesn’t perceive it? I’d spend the entire time feeling like I was pretending to be someone I’m not. And that’s how I feel now. I know I see myself a certain way… so how do I change around my way of thinking?

Am I meant to be doing that first? Together?

I had a mini-breakdown on my way home in the car. I felt like I hadn’t accomplished anything in my day and I was a total failure. Part of that of course was sending in the application for OSAP interest relief. I did it last November and I had all these expectations about where work would be… And instead nothing changed. I feel like such a failure.

Add to that the 800 dollar fee to TREB and I’m rethinking the whole real estate thing. I saw it as a launching pad and I love it so much… But if I had found some crap job that paid monthly, I’d probably be in a better position to buy a rental property. Fail.

Instead I get stuck in work and don’t make any movements forward. So why keep paying it? I’m finding it ridiculous to pay to do my job and to pay an exorbitant monthly fee. With the money I’ve spent I could have enough for a down payment on something.

It makes me wonder if maybe I shouldn’t just drop everything and move to London from now. I couldn’t be any worse. And being out of my element might actually help me. Or I might freeze and panic and fail harder.

This is such a vicious cycle for me. That little gremlin figures out how to weasel it’s way into my mind and throw me off.

But I’m rethinking the whole life process again. All I seem to do now is write, and I could do that anywhere in the world. I could work at anything.

I dunno. I did work on the site today woot and I started the tumultuous process of cleaning my bedroom and desk – think tornado aftermath. I still haven’t done my writing, but I’ve got some time.

I dunno. Maybe I need to be more stringent and open with my daily goals so I feel more accountable if I haven’t done them. All in all, not the best day for me. I feel like I moved two steps forward yesterday, and today I fell down the whole damn flight of stairs.

I’m lost today. But tomorrows a brand new day. Maybe I’ll come up with a way to beat my gremlin tonight. Or maybe I’ll start looking for flights to London. *sigh*

Rough start, but I’ll tackle day 2 as best I can. I know I haven’t been putting in my all for work or life and I’m getting the results of what I’ve given. I’ll do a hard week, and see if I make some progress.

Today is all about focus. Writing and work are the two priorities. Make a little to do list and get to work

I admit I like change.

A lot.

An awful lot. So much that three or four (or more) times a year I decide to start completely fresh, get my life in order… and change.

The length of time that it lasts varies from a week to a few days to just under a month; but at some point, I slip and fall back into the same ol’, same ol’ that I always do. And it’s a bother. And a problem, because that pattern is one in which I don’t really push myself through challenges and on to greatness.

It’s important for me though, to change, because being stuck does a great job of sucking the life right out of me.

So I begin my own thirty day challenge. Can I truly change in 30 days? Is it possible to transform one’s life in such a short span of time?

I won’t be alone, of course – this is what I have friends and a coach for. But even with that support, I know that I’m my biggest threat for success.

I’m prone to laziness. I know, it’s awful. It’s my ascending sign of Taurus in my fourth house or something that makes me a bit of a couch potato. And so, as much as I love being busy, a part of me definitely resents it. But what if I tackled a new area each week? And just built on it, bit by bit? Couldn’t I make a difference in 30 days?

My usual proclamations of change are followed by some kind of heel-dragging stuck in the mud behaviour that throws off the entire strategy. Like I always say… I love change, in theory. In practice, it gets a bit harder. I also rarely write down all the different ways to change… and then trap myself because suddenly, I can’t remember everything.

Memory of a goldfish. It’s mostly a curse.

What are the areas of life? Well, writing is one. Has to be; I mean, it’s something I’ve been doing since I was a kid, and I have some very structured ideas about it… so writing. That’s one. Work is another. Real estate is difficult considering how nice I am as a boss… to myself. Our broker says things like “If this was an office, and you were getting a paycheck… would you still be working there?” Heavens no. I would have fired myself LONG ago. But commission isn’t a paycheck; it’s a far-off promise of something lovely. So, I’m up to two.

Social should be included. After all, sometimes I catch myself behaving something like Ricky Gervais’s character in Ghost Town. You know, it’s not so much crowds as it is the individual people inside them. But that’s another.

Only three? You’d think there would be more. Physical health. That’s important. I’m not the best at taking care of myself (ice cream for breakfast, anyone?) but that’s certainly something to look at. So does that mean I can tie nutrition and exercise into one? Why not.

Well, those are four areas. There must be more, certainly I could break it down into more things, but I feel like there’s enough going on in those four areas for me to start. Eventually, I might need to start taking my other artistic endeavours seriously, and some of the lesser areas of life, but those four are certainly the ones on my mind. (Less the fourth. I think about that mainly after I’ve had the bowl of ice cream)

So there it is. Four areas. Four weeks? Just about. Week 1 should really be work. Or writing. Both are important. Only one pays though… But I feel like I need to tackle them all at once, or I’ll give up.

So here they are: My 30 day goals for each area of life that I’ve decided needs some attention.

Writing – I’ve got those two short stories to see about submitting to a magazine or something. That’s one step. But I want to write every day. In some form beyond blogging about the excruciating difficulty I have in enacting change. So there it is. Spend time writing each day. Completely vague, isn’t it? So, I’m going to write for at least an hour. Each day. I mean, even if it’s only 500 words a day, that’s still 15,000 in thirty days. And that’s a couple of short stories.

Work – oh work. How I neglect you. I’m going to set up some things I want to do for work and then… do them. One a day should be good. Get me working five days a week or so. Starting with my website and work blog: urbanlivingdowntown.wordpress.com

Social? Okay, I like the statement of Nicholas in his book, where he says there are two rules for socializing. 1. Accept every reasonable invitation. 2. Arrange a social or networking event one day a week. Seems fair enough.

Health. Hmm, it’s difficult. Obviously, I should be eating healthier. Sugar for breakfast doesn’t help me avoid the 12 pm crash. But let’s start with water. Three of my 750 mL bottles a day. And I think I’ll try to get in at least fifteen minutes of exercise a day. (At the very least, it’ll get me out of the house and away from my computer).

Simple steps. In theory. But to do it every day is somehow a lot more difficult. Maybe it’s because I’m scared I’ll fail. Or maybe it’s because my inner gremlin is even more terrified I’ll succeed.

Today marks the start of a brand new way of thinking. Day 1. Four areas of life to focus on. Let the experiment begin.

I took a few steps when the cat growled, its claws digging into my shoulder. I pulled it away, its nails catching in my shirt. “Cut it out.” Its mouth drew back into a snarl directed at something behind us. I turned to catch a gleam of white as something flew from amid the trees and slammed into me with a force that knocked me onto the dirt and left me gasping for air. The cat tumbled from my arms, hissing, and leapt through the woods. I watched it for as long as I could, even when clouds covered the crescent moon and the ravine darkened. The moon glowed faintly from behind thick gray clouds, leaving the area I was in faintly illuminated. I struggled to sit up and turned forward just in time to have wide teeth snap inches from my nose, grabbing for my skin.

Above the teeth, nostrils flared, white foam trickling from them and splattering into the woods as it shook its long head in frustration. Wide black eyes moved around their sockets, looking in every direction at once, but always fixing back on me with a hunger I had never seen before. The long, narrow muzzle of the creature was covered in fine white hairs and its snout was speckled with a red liquid that I wished I could not see. I didn’t know where the creature had been before me, but I had a feeling that something, somewhere was also wishing it hadn’t gotten out of bed.

I scrambled backwards, the sprawling roots of a fallen tree protecting me. I flattened myself against the dirt, feeling a rock rip my shirt and dig into my skin. The teeth kept reaching for me, and the mouth around them drew back into a shriek that sucked the warmth from my body. I backed up until the trunk of another tree was pressed into my back and the bark knotting my hair. I couldn’t go anywhere now, and soon the thing that wanted to tear me apart would step over the roots and reach me. The clouds passed over and I could see the creature clearer under the moonlight.

I knew what I thought it was, but that thought made no sense because: one, the creature couldn’t be real and I was more and more aware that I couldn’t be dreaming; and two, not even in my wildest nightmares could I have imagined something so evil. But this nagging voice in my head insisted that I could not be wrong. And the reason I felt I had to believe was because of the horn. It was almost two feet long, jutting out from the centre of the monster’s head like a displaced stalagmite. Only this stalagmite shimmered with the reflected moonlight, and kept glowing even when the clouds covered the moon and the woods darkened.

The only indication of the next attack was the faint light from the creature as it lunged forward. It reared up on hind legs, and powerful hooves slammed into the wood above me. I ducked, shouting, and the horn that pulsed with a faint light pierced the tree trunk in front of me. It didn’t come out.

I was face to face with the animal. The horn was multi-faceted, like a strange, elongated, and equally deadly, diamond. I watched the creature struggle to remove it. Its hooves beat at the ground and it tossed its head in sharp, contained movements, sending bark flying into my face. It would rip through my skin like a steak knife through soft butter if I let it get that close.

It stared at me, its eyes black. Amanda said the horses she rode were peaceful, almost pacified, but that thought didn’t make me feel any safer around this thing. Its eyes rolled around, fixing on me, and I could feel its hate and anger like a suffocating weight against my chest. I couldn’t move, not even when its lips pulled back and its huge teeth gnashed together. Its gums oozed blood over the yellowing teeth, and its stale breath washed over my face.  The bark splintered with a deep crack. It wiggled backwards. Something wrapped long, thin fingers around my wrist and pulled me forward. I stumbled to my feet and ran past the creature. Its tail whipped against my legs, leaving them stinging.

But the second movie is my all-time favourite.

And it’s really all because of one scene and the brilliant social cues the script holds for current events (mainly the late 80s but some stuff still works)

The scene, of course, is the soldiers in the alien hive. Everything about their network and belief system is hinted at earlier to explain the utter devastation that happens. And it’s so similar to the structure used by the military that it comes across as believable and terrifyingly realistic. They have a new lieutenant. Don’t know him, don’t like him, and he, commander, has never seen combat. It’s a dangerous pairing. Dangerous in today’s climate, was something learned the hard way in the two world wars and can be applied to numerous communication hierarchies

The concept is one explored deeply during the wars. Send the men into an unknown situation against an unknown enemy that is being gravely underestimated. Even today it has devatating results. That would be bad enough. Just look at the casualties from the first world war. When men were not told the details of their locations to prevent any leaks if someone was captured. And how that thought process changed with Vimy Ridge (beautiful place ps. and a great tribute to the soldiers who fought there)

But the soldiers situation is more complicated. It’s understandable that many of the dangers could not have been foretold. After all, who knew the aliens had acid for blood? (an unexpected twist that allowed them to double the destruction. Kudos.) But the inability to use live rounds was an explainable problem. Just like the Canadian army discovered at Vimy – if soldiers know what they’re facing, know the terrain, know the risks, they can be better prepared.

Or they wouldn’t open fire in an area that could cause a chemical explosion. We see the common military belief take hold – that desire to shield soldiers from knowing the true risk thy are in. Understandable to avoid panic, to keep them focused on their task. Tell them no and assume they’ll be fine with it.

Human nature is anything but. (It doesn’t work with children either…) If you take away the thing that makes someone feel safe or in control, take away the one thing that is familiar to them .. What can you expect?

And the fire probably had a worse effect than if they had been firing ammunition. Trapped in a small area, unable to see the enemy.. And shooting fire when they’re unexpectedly attacked. Causes a lot of accidents that take out their own.

And then we lose their major. The one thing keeping them in check to date in the movie. The man who understand them, fights with them, and keeps them in line… Lost. Communication breaks down more than before with the loss of video and sound. And we see the danger that the top-down hierarchy  structure poses. Top-down doesn’t work when the middle layers vanish. Or when the top panics and can’t call the shots.

Step in Ripley. The woman who began her journey as a scared passenger begins her ascent into fearless warrior. She saves them. Makes the most awesome suggest in destroying an entire planet to ensure the aliens are dead…

And the writers present us with another chilling mirror of daily life. The corporation. Slimy, squirming, like a rat, sniffing around in the shadows and generally screwing with a simple plan all for the sake of profit.

Even more frightening is how close we are to it today. And the worst part is, who can say that in that situation… a company wouldn’t do exactly that. Again, the parallels from history appear. Sending someone to a place where a “possible” threat might be because it doesn’t fall into their technical land rights… so we can’t tell them about it, and whose to say that there could ever be a danger at all? Same with the willingness to destroy human life just to see some aliens make it out alive.

Every time I see that movie, I get upset. I get pissed off. (I get really terrified!) But more than that, I am impressed with the quality and subtleties that they stuck into a sci-fi movie that is about a breed of Aliens killing everything in sight.

But for so many others, capacity was like a code word for.. Push to front. Because they honestly seemed to believe that if they got to the doors… They would still get in.

Which they didn’t. And they waited. And they were apalled by the fact that they could not get into a free event. Fuck the fire code. They came so they were entitled to see it.

Some waited. Most had gone by 745, 15 minutes after the show started. Some grumbled and left, tried the doors while we… Safely locked indoors… Watched them.

And being in the outer room, not close enough to enjoy the reading of gothic fiction, I found something more perversely riveting: people watching. Through the stained glass window of the front door, nicely at eye level, I could watch the people outside as they waited.

Some arrived at 8, trying the doors as though it was common courtesy to stroll into a performance 30 minutes late. Locked. Foiled. Better still, I could hear their comments.. How could it be locked? They’re not letting anyone in?

Manners people. Don’t arrive late to a performance and think you can stroll in.

The best comment of the night: “How can they not be letting people in? It’s free right? There’s no tickets? Then they should just let us in and stand in the back.”

How I wish I could reply that if they were standing between me and the door in the event of a fire… I would be perfectly willing to shove them out of the way. Honestly, can it be any wonder our world is the way it is if we walk around with that sense of entitlement? Maybe if we appreciated life a little more, we wouldn’t be so oblivious to screwing it up.