The Mondays

Hey followers, unfortunately we don't have much in the way of new content this week as we're working on some longer-form pieces, but in the spirit of keeping you coming back every Monday, here's a reminder to follow us on Facebook, Twitter, and Bloglovin! Tell all your friends!

Cheers,
Simon

Dating Diary: The Blond-Haired Englishman

A few years ago I put myself in a very weird situation. It all started one night when I was out drinking with the guys and a tall, thin blond man with an English accent approached me. I was polite with him but not interested because a) I was busy with my friends and b) tall and skinny and blond is not my type. After I gave him the cold shoulder he started chatting up one of my guy friends (I didn’t really notice because it was a standing bar and everyone was milling around) and when last call came and we headed back to a girlfriend’s place, the blond tagged along. The group chilled all night and I ended up chatting with him a bit. At that hour, he seemed cute and interesting, and when he asked my number, I gave it to him (partly because I was into it, but mostly because at that stage of my life I was terrible at saying no to any man who asked for it – thankfully, I’m better about that now). When I had to leave and he made to leave at the same time, my girlfriend pulled me aside. “Do you like this guy?” she asked. I told her I didn’t and she rushed me out before the guy could follow and try and get me back to his place.

He went back to England and we texted back and forth and Skyped a few times. Neither of us seemed that interested in making things happen. It’s hard for me to fall in love long-distance – I feel like I need to see, hear and feel a lot of interest coming from a man before I’m engaged. But a few months after I had first met him he mentioned he was coming back to Toronto on business, and he suggested we see each other. It seemed like a good idea but the timing was bad for me – I was scheduled for three straight 12-hour waitressing shifts (11 AM-11 PM) on the weekend he was coming. I told him I would try to see him, but deep down I knew I wasn’t going to put in much effort. Once he got to town he texted me several times. I felt bad and agreed to meet him after work. I was very tired and felt sticky and yucky from a long day in the restaurant, but we chatted for an hour or two and then I went home. The next day he again met me after work. This time we went out drinking until last call and then I went back to his hotel and talked some more. He was a complete gentleman – he didn’t even try to kiss me. I crashed on his bed for an hour and then I went home to clean up and get ready for work. He gave me a little peck on the cheek and headed back to England.

Vlog Intros

Hey readers, we posted a couple of introductory vlogs so you can get to know our faces as well as our words.

Quitting Modelling

About two years ago I quit modelling for good. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do next, but I knew that I wasn't getting what I had used to get out of the whole experience and I needed the change. At the time I was working as a supervisor in a restaurant and  I didn't have a backup plan - I just figured I'd do that for a while and see where it led me.

When I first quit there was a sense of relief. I got some tattoos I'd always wanted (while I was in the industry tattoos were strongly discouraged) and bleached my hair. Suddenly I could work out whenever I wanted to. Suddenly the pressure was gone. I didn't need to worry about how I looked. I was happy and proud that I'd gotten out on my own terms rather than waiting for that dreaded sit-down.

The first few months were glorious but it wasn't long before reality kicked in. I had never been smart with my modelling money and after my last paycheck came and went I suddenly realized that no one had taught me anything about managing money. I didn't know how to get by on restaurant wages alone.

"Wait," I said. "The fuck am I supposed to do with my life?"

I thought back to my days in Asia, the rich boys who had courted me. Maybe I should have married a millionaire when I had the chance. But deep down I knew that wasn't really what I wanted - that was a cop out. Several years before, one of those old boyfriends had told me that I shouldn’t ever quit working as a model because as soon as I did I would start to look old. (At the time, of course, I got nervous and offended and started thinking I was already looking old.)

So what was the next step? Acting? I had been acting on and off for the last six years of my modelling career, but not much had come of it - I had to acknowledge that maybe I wasn't all that good at it.

At one point, I had the thought that maybe I should just go and live in a temple and be Zen for the rest of my life.

As per usual I ended up meeting someone in this time who was, for lack of a better word, a complete asshole, and thought maybe I should settle down. NOPE. I ended up quitting my supervisor job and ending it with the bf after we moved in together. Suddenly I was out of a job, out of savings, and basically homeless.

"What the fuck do I do now?"

At that point I decided I wanted to go back to school. But what would I take? I had always wanted to be a therapist and I was already a healer spirituality so maybe that was the route. By the time I applied to school I was on welfare. But school didn't work out either - there were issues with my OSAP and I wasn't able to commit to the year (which would have been this current school year).

Since school fell through I've landed a full-time job and found a place to live. I don't have it all figured out yet, but I'm getting there. But my advice to anyone who plans to quit the industry without a backup plan is this - make sure you're prepared for the real world first!

-Sarah

Tojo: A Short Sample from "Sleeping With the Material World"

We don't want to do this too much while we shop this book around, but we thought it would be nice for our followers to get a sense of what this book we're writing is all about. So here's a short sample section where Sarah meets a cute surfer named Tojo and hooks up with him. This is taken from near the end of Chapter 3, on Sarah's second trip to Tokyo:

Tojo:

Anne and I had a casting together. She and I had the same look – skinny, white, blonde – so we ended up at a lot of castings together. We pulled into the parking lot a bit early, and as we waited I bit into a Nutri-Grain bar. I had a thing for candy bars at home and now that I’d gotten to know Tokyo I’d found the westernized spots in town where I could go to buy North American stuff.

“What is that?” Anne asked.

“Just a granola bar,” I said.

“Gran-no-la,” she enunciated each syllable. “That word funny.”

“Hey,” I slapped her and pointed out the window. “Who’s that guy?” A Japanese guy had gotten out of a separate car in the lot with a model and was heading into the casting ahead of us. He was medium build, dressed like a skater, but he immediately looked familiar. “I swear to God, he looks exactly like Pharell Williams.”

“The rapper?” Anne said. “He does, too.”

“What’s his name?”

“Whatever, Sarah. He is another DTA," my DTA Masahiro said from the from the front seat. "Who cares?”

“Serious, though," I said. "I want to know his name. And what agency he works for."

“He's called Tojo,” Masahiro said. “I’ve seen him around. Are you girls ready to go in?”

“Ready to get his number, more like,” I joked. Anne rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I'm ready," I said, more seriously.