Whenever I finish course selection, there is always a period of time where my thoughts drift to my future in terms of a career. It’s like an imposing deadline that inches closer when you least expect it, and as a humanities / social sciences student studying Political Science, Cinema Studies, and History, this deadline can appear menacing. Now, as a student in Political Science, Cinema Studies and History interested in a career with media production and photography, this deadline appears monstrous.
I’ve learned from various trips to professors’ office hours, the Career Centre, and long, thoughtful conversations with friends that succeeding after school, especially with my aspirations, that marketing yourself in today’s job industry is essential. Marketing, in my mind, automatically correlates with entrepreneurship – something I don’t have the space in my packed school schedule (curse you, 5 hour film blocks!) to learn from classes. However, when I struck up a chat with my friend Tsukasa (or Tsuki) who’s a third year Rotman student working as a student entrepreneur for the new U of T student founded course organizing program, Semesterly , I learned a lot about what it’s like to be a student entrepreneur.
It was a fine Tuesday morning when I woke up after a splendid night out with friends, my hollow stomach rumbling for some greasy, filling food to fuel it. Leaving the house, I headed to the closest diner in Kensington Market (Our Spot), ordered myself a plate of food, and upon checkout, handed the cashier my debit card.
And then it happened. In one of the most dreadful moments of my life, I held the card machine in my hand staring at one word, in big block letters: DECLINED.
The red glow of the wall outside beckons you in. In huge sans serif letters, you can read “UTAC” – University of Toronto Art Centre, housed within University College. Curiosity at a new exhibit was what had me enter, and spectacular art was what kept me hooked.
Upon entering, my first thought was hey, this feels and smells like art museum – you know, the wide open airy spaces and clean fragrance of nothing. There is a wooden counter with a receptionist sitting behind it, who smiles at me. I’m filled with intrigue.
“This is a new exhibit?” I ask stupidly. She smiles, obviously used to this question, and replies,
“Yes! This is the new photography exhibit we have featured until July 30th.”
A brief review of one of my favourite concert venues in Toronto — Lee’s Palace.
This past school year, I lived in a creaky, vintage (old) house comprised of both students and young professionals. Inside, examples of some common occurrences were: uncomfortable heating spikes, cleaning up other peoples’ messes so I could cook dinner, and, my personal favourite, forgetting to bring some toilet paper rolls from my room to the bathroom only to realize the terrible mistake I made later on in the day.