Day 204
Canadian taxes aren't all that exciting. I was sent to a room that was not unlike a dingier version of the room where I took baton lessons. (Yeah, I took baton lessons, shove it) There were a few scattered tables with filled with people getting their taxes done. I gave the lady my paperwork and she sighed. "Guess, I'll have to fill out a paper return." She started ripping out pages and filling in the blanks with tiny zeros. She asked her fellow tax help people a few questions which made me quite nervous, but I didn't say anything. She grunted at a mathematical function. I said, "Gee, I hope they pay you well." She said, "I am a volunteer." "Guess you are paid in karma," I said. What I wanted to say was, "Isn't there something better than this to do with your free time, like stare at naked people on nearby beaches?"
She filled out the final pages of my tax forms, while conducting a conversation with her fellow helpers. At the end of the whole process she said, "You didn't pay any in." I said, "What?" She pointed to the boxes on my tax forms where it should say how much money I paid to the government, the boxes were blank. Immediately I thought, "Shit, I owe money, they are going to come after me and charge me interest." But, she informed me that this is Canada and that would never happen it just means that I don't get back any money. Add one more tick in the pro-Canada column. She then told me that I wouldn't have had to bother filing for taxes at all.
After I did my taxes, ate a bagel sandwich, and outlined a short story I was feeling quite awesome. I went to return my movies to the videostore that I want to work at. Correction: the videostore I wrote an amazing love/cover letter to when I found out they were hiring last week. As I walked in the door the familiar guy from behind the counter said, "Didn't you get my call yesterday?" I said, "No." He then went on to explain that he had called yesterday, and because I didn't call back they hired someone else. That is when my heart broke. I was so crestfallen, I walked to the corner and promptly got on the wrong bus.
I called my mother who told me, "Well, I think you should learn a lesson from all this. When you are looking for a job you need to constantly check your phone." I said, "Mom, you are supposed to tell me it wasn't meant to be." She said, "Learn your lesson." It took many phone calls to friends who told me that it was fucked up they didn't even interview, but mostly it was the realization that I came here to go to school not work at a videostore that got me over my self-hatred. Well that, and going to the big grocery store and taking ritzy organic cranberries from a bulk bin and labeling the bag with the cheaper, crappier cranberry bin number helped as well.
At supper tonight I was proposed to (sort of) and asked a man to marry me. The proposal (directed to me) went something like this, "I'll marry you and get American citizenship." The proposal by me to a Canadian went like this, "Will you marry me?" And, his immediate response was, "Yes." Add yet another pro-Canada tick in the pro column. But, when I was told I would marry and give out U.S. citizenship I said, "What's in it for me? Do you have any special skills?" He told me that he would work and I could live in Mexico and he would send me money and I would drive a fancy car. Hmm, sounds pretty good. The Canadian offered me nothing. I think I'll take both anyway just to see who has better skills.
My friend from next door joined me for dinner. Not only did she crack me up with her observation, "No cake today, huh?" She told the guy who likes me, but doesn't listen to me, to listen to me. Not only did he spend the rest of supper listening to me, he did whatever I said. He even spent a good deal of time on his crackberry looking up movietimes for a movie he would not see with me. If I weren't such a judgemental bitch I may have taken this into consideration and overlooked his windpants that reminded me of lesbian gym teachers. God, I am so vain.
The rest of the evening was spent playing UNO and Battleship, learning naughty Norweigan phrases, and talking about neighbors having sex. Just the usual.
Tip of the Day: It's fun to play with the scooter, but know you will grow out of it.
-Canadian Castaway
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