Tag Archives: despair

A Lovely Crappy Day!

"La Libre Esthétique salon annuel: Musée Moderne, de 10 a 5 heures, ouverture: 24 Fevrier, prix d'entrée: 1 Franc, le Dimanche 50 centimes." Poster for art exhibition of the Brussels-based artistic movement at La Libre Esthétique.
This image is available from the United States Library of Congress’s Prints and Photographs division under the digital ID cph.3b52530

So I took the famous French exam on Friday to apply for permanent residence in Quebec… Boy was that a failure… It feels great to finally be able to let that out… My French is actually not bad. Definitely good enough to talk about lame situations but when my performance is being scrutinized, I tend to get nervous and start speaking gibberish… No matter what language I am using at that moment… And that is exactly what happened during the exam. The less I care about the results of an interview, the better I perform… In other words, I don’t perform well under pressure… Unless it is a task involving writing…

And, completely acting in contrast with my personality, I told everyone it went OK, instead of freaking out and expecting everyone to relieve me with soothing words… Is this what finally growing feels like? Meh…

I didn’t tell my friends about how poorly the speaking component went because almost all of them have to take the same exam and they are still at preliminary stages of learning the language and are immensely freaked out about it… So telling them that I fucked up would not be much of a help… Plus, they sort of consider me to be one of those straight A types who always walk out of the exam room with despair of certain failure. They might be right, but it is so hard not to shriek when my mind is consuming the few neurons I possess to eat me up alive…

Neither did I mention the anguish I was swimming in to my husband because he rarely has any story in store to make the anxiety go away… Except for the jokes, which did help right after the exam when we met up… Though he had no idea his funniness was being exploited for selfish self appeasement ends.

And, I am finally getting to the point where I do not run to my mummy’s arms for comfort… I am in a way preparing myself for the day she might die and I will have to deal with my problems on my own… Although she is perfectly healthy… Sort of like encouraging yourself to push harder by telling yourself giving birth is much more painful when you are constipated… Surely, you know what I mean…

Yes, this is exactly where I want to put an end to today’s post… I felt like crap for Quebec’s sake… And here is a bunch of crap in the form of a blog entry… Have a lovely Sunday crap…

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Coming to Canada (2)

At 5 am, my parents and I arrived at the airport and met my husband and his family. Being grown up and all, we both chose to spend our last night in Turkey with our own parents. Many people were surprised at our choice but I think it makes sense; after all, we would be spending a lot of time in the same house in the days to come.

I was hyper energetic and my heart was racing faster than a purebred on steroids (had to google this). Colors were brighter, future was promising despite the doubts in my head and I was with my hubby whom I trusted to hold my hand whenever I needed (ehem). That was true happiness.

Thank god, I was not naïve enough to believe that these feelings would be ever lasting. I knew that in the months to come, I would be going crazy either looking for jobs and wondering why noone ever responded to my applications or even worse, still waiting for the damn work permit, and of course it was the latter case. I knew that we would be stuck doing the same activities as we would be too broke to “spice up” our daily routines, which would lead to some kind of frustration in our relationship every once in a while. I also knew that I would be feeling very lonely, since lacking a work permit and study permit along with money means there are few ways I could socialize.

Yet, I still did enjoy these first months, as I had enough time to take long walks through the city and daydream about the shops, jobs and lives behind the building walls I passed by. It was once again in these first few months that I did everything I can to find out about events and festivals in the city. I believed that from then on, life could only get better. I thought that as soon as I found a job in this country where human rights are respected, where people can express their wishes freely, where life is easier, our lives would only be on the rise for a better standard of living.

That’s where I was mistaken…