From A to Z with Shelley C

Remembering Carla.

2012-01-26T23:57:00.001-06:00

A few months ago I went back to my old elementary school for a work project. Walking through the doors was strange, just being inside of the building evoked feelings and memories of my childhood that I'd long forgotten. The halls were strangely tiny and familiar.

There are only a few places that can take you back into a different time of your life like a school can.

As I was leaving I walked past rows and rows of grade six class photos hanging on the wall. I immediately looked for mine and for my sisters' pictures. I was in awe of how small we were; how dated the photos were. It seemed like so long ago, yet the memories were flooding back to me.

I examined the photos, looking for familiar faces and names, and I came across a girl I knew named Carla Caldwell. Carla was a girl who lived in the same housing complex as me. She and I weren't really friends, because she was a year older, but we went to school and brownies together and we played with the same kids around the neighbourhood.

Carla is someone I would have probably forgotten about, like so many of the people I grew up with, except, unlike the rest of those people, Carla's life (and sudden death) haunted (and perhaps still haunt) all of us who knew her.

In 1991 Carla and her little brother Jamie were murdered by their father in a botched murder suicide attempt during their weekend visit to his Sherbrook Street apartment. Their father, Carl, was a sick man, who stole his young children's lives for reasons I'm not sure anyone can explain. (He succeeded in killing himself in jail a year or two later.)

Finding Carla's picture at school brought back so many emotions and memories. I feel such sadness when I think about Carla and Jamie. I think about their mother, and the profound sense of loss she will carry for the rest of her life. I think about the two kids who never had the chance to grow up and experience life. I think about the kids who grew up with Carla and Jamie who will always be haunted with memories and what ifs.

I've tried to google her over the years, looking to review her case with a set of grown up eyes, to no avail. (I would like to rummage through old newspapers one day when I have time...) The only piece of Carla that I can find is on the walls of my old elementary school.

RIP Carla and Jamie.

Musings for a new year

2012-01-02T21:25:00.005-06:00

Looking ahead to 2012, it's a fresh slate for all of us.

I can't predict what the new year will bring, but I can assure that 2012 will be met with good times and bad times, happiness and sorrow. We will experience new things, meet new friends, stay connected with old friends, and continue on with what's already familiar to us. Perhaps for some of us, the new year will see us lose friends, fall out of love, or mourn the passing of someone we will love forever.

Life is unpredictable, the only thing we can control is how we deal with it.

This year, if I may, I have some advice for all of us; advice I want to heed in my own life, so that I can be a better person. Advice that will be hard to live by, yet will make life easier in the long run. Advice that will make the world a better place.

Defy odds by not letting people determine the outcome of your life: It's easy to give up the moment someone tells you that something is impossible. Yet there are people who defy the odds every single day, creating miracles, because they didn't let somebody else tell them they couldn't do something. These are the people who change the world and pave the way for the rest of us. These are leaders, who aren't afraid to think and try things for themselves. Even if they fail, these are the people that find peace in failure because they discovered it on their own.

Always change, never conform: Always strive to change, because that's what life is about; growth and change. Learn new things, do things that you enjoy and try doing things that scare you. Take a leap of faith every once in awhile. Don't do things just because other people want you to, do them because you want to do them. Life is too short to try and appease others. The greatest relationships are the ones with people who truly like you, not the ones who only certain aspects of you. We can't control other people, the way they act, think or feel. But we can control ourselves.

It's exhausting to try and be somebody you're not, so don't.

Be good to others: Kindness can change the world because empathy and compassion are contagious. Treat others as you would like to be treated, and almost all of the time the treatment will be reciprocated. You will have experiences with people who are unpleasant and mean, that's just one of those inevitables in life, but learning to turn the other cheek without being abused is an art form that only serve to build character and make you better.

Give without expecting anything in return. Try not to judge people; you have no idea what kind of life they've had. Be genuine, honest and respectful. It will take work, perhaps even a lifetime to achieve, but the intrinsic rewards will be plenty.

Read so you always have something other than yourself to talk about. Let yourself really laugh at something funny, even if it's loud and embarassing. Tell people how important they are to you before it's too late– The most touching eulogies are the ones we give to people while they're still alive. Sometimes the most important thing we can do for other people is tell them how much they mean to us.

Be good to yourself: Respect yourself and others will respect you. Don't settle for a relationship, a job or a lifestyle that you're just OK with. Always strive for what you want; if you work hard enough you will get it.

Don't hate people, it will only serve to make you bitter. Let those people go. Living well is the best "revenge" anyway.

Take time to listen to people, and save your good conversations and thoughts for people who want to listen to you. You are the ruler of your life, never give that away.

All the best in 2012 friends, may we all work toward making the world a better place.

PHOTO: Sunny S-H Photography.

The power of social media

2011-10-20T07:50:00.006-05:00

Last week my Missing Manitoba Women Facebook page helped located a 14-year-old missing girl.

(Wow, the power of social media never ceases to amaze me.)

This girl's mom, Shannon Buck, posted her daughter, Lauren Chopek's picture on my page. The girl didn't return home from school the day before, and Buck was going out of her mind. I messaged Buck, and she sent me a missing poster and asked if I could post it on my page. Since the poster was in a Word document format, I quickly laid it out in InDesign and posted the JPG to my wall.

Lauren's poster went viral; people from all over the world started reposting it and sending well wishes to her family. People in places like Germany, India, Australia, the US, Europe...The entire world was looking for this girl. It was incredible to see.

I kept in touch with Lauren's mom through facebook on a day-to-day basis, thinking the girl would come home within a couple of days. However, each day I would get the same response from Buck: "She is not home." By this point, I think both of us started to freak out even more. Since I'm a CreComm student, I pulled some of my "CreComm Mafia super powers" and sent out a mass email and a plea on Twitter for my media friends to pick up Lauren's story. (Thank the Lord for Twitter!)

The first story about Lauren ran on CBC on October 13. (Click here to watch the clip)

Following CBC's story, Buck's plea was also answered by the Winnipeg Sun, The Metro Winnipeg.

Last Saturday morning I woke up to a text from Buck. "Lauren is home." It was surreal, I was really starting to get scared that something bad had happened. (I kept telling Buck that she'd be fine, because I really thought she would be, but when more days passed and Lauren wasn't found I started to get really scared.)

Later Saturday morning I got a message on Facebook from one of my Facebook friends, Jackie Traverse; she told me that she found Lauren the night before at a Winnipeg Hotel. Jackie, an Aboriginal artist and missing and murdered women advocate said that she was having a few drinks at the hotel when she spotted the girl. She said she recognized her from the pictures from the Missing Manitoba Women page. Jackie went to talk to Lauren, and made her call her mom, and then waited with Lauren until her mother picked her up. She is a true hero.

Thanks to social media sites like Facebook and Twitter, and all of the people who posted, and re-posted Lauren's picture, the girl was found and reunited with her family.

Click here to see Global's coverage of the story after Lauren was found.

My exit from the Daily Graphic

2011-08-22T16:42:00.002-05:00

Here is the last (and only) column that I wrote for the Daily Graphic– a goodbye to all the wonderful people I met.

Rolling into Portage la Prairie last May to start my summer job as a reporter for the Portage Daily Graphic, I wasn’t sure what to expect– this was my first paying gig out of journalism school.

I’ll admit, being from Winnipeg, I wasn’t overly familiar with the community, but I was excited to learn about Portage and all it had to offer. I was also stoked to meet the people who call this place home. From covering the weekly lunches at the Portage Rotary Club to meeting new business owners like Jennifer Lamber of Memories In Time Scrapbooking, or the Aggarwal family who own the two Olina shops in town, there was a learning experience in every story I wrote.

There were also some days that the challenges of this job became personal; even though a reporter is never supposed to become emotionally involved in a story, it’s sometimes impossible. Covering this year’s historic flood that destroyed so many peoples homes and livelihoods, or speaking to Amber McFarland’s mom Lori a day after the missing woman’s 28th birthday were some of the hardest stories I’ve ever had to write. Yet, while my heart broke for these people, it also warmed to the fact that I saw a strength and resiliency that is so rare in the outside world, yet almost ‘normal’ here in Portage.

Outside of the city, in the Central Plains region, I have also been lucky to have met some awesome people, like the folks in MacGregor, who I’ve written a number of stories about this summer. I am in awe of the entire community for how much passion they have for their beloved NorMac arena. When they went up against Arborg for the Kraft Celebration Tour on July 21, I was assigned the duty of following them through their journey. It was an absolute pleasure to report that they had won the contest, and I look forward to celebrating with them on August 27 when TSN’s SportsCentre broadcasts live from MacGregor.

This is an experience is one that I will never forget. Besides being a wonderful career stepping stone, my position at the Daily Graphic has left me with so many wonderful new friends, not only in the office, but out in the community as well. Rest assured that you will see my family and I at the ninth annual Potato Festival next year, and you might bump into me at the MCC every now and again. I’ll definitely be back next strawberry season to indulge in some of the tastiest berries I’ve ever eaten, and if I’m in the city on a Tuesday afternoon, the Rotary Club can expect an extra guest for lunch.

To my colleagues at the Daily Graphic, you have all been so nice, thank you for everything. Everybody in the office keeps telling me the newsroom will be super quiet without me, I am still trying to figure out if that’s a good thing or a bad thing...

Portage la Prairie you have been an excellent host, I will never forget this summer. From the bottom of my heart, Thank you.

STFU: Things you should never say to people...

2011-08-10T09:08:00.002-05:00

Inspired by a tweet I saw this morning, I felt compelled to give a little lesson on etiquette when speaking to other people. Please read carefully, and follow these basic rules of life...

You look tired: First of all, everybody knows that "you look tired" is code for "you look like shit." Seriously people, nobody ever looks good when they're tired, so you may as well say "you look like a shit with a side of bags under your eyes." Ugh. Second, if I look tired it probably means that I am tired and if I am tired I don't need you to remind me of it, especially if your comment isn't followed up with a solution to my exhaustion. If there is no cozy bed and warm glass of milk at the end of your statement, don't say it. Just don't.

The only exception to this rule is if mom or grandma says it to you, because they gave you life and can therefore say pretty much anything to you, and they're also most likely saying it in a sympathetic way that could land you a nap and a sandwich...

Are you expecting or When is your due date?: I make it a point to NEVER ask a woman if she's pregnant. Never– even if she's nine months along and all baby, I keep my lips sealed. I learned this little trick after someone asked me if I was expecting. ("Um what?! No. No I'm not...")

If mom-to-be slips it into the conversation, go nuts. If someone else slips it into the conversation, go nuts. Just don't bring it up, cause if there's no baby at the end of that question, you've just ruined someone's day and self esteem.

Oh, and if someone calls you out for not noticing or thinks you're rude for not congratulating them, you can just tell them you did notice but you make it a point to never bring it up until someone else does, then tell them about the time you awkwardly congratulated someone who wasn't with child. they'll understand.

Any reference to a person gaining weight: I can't stress this enough: DO NOT TELL SOMEONE THEY'RE GAINING WEIGHT. First of all, they know, good lord do they know! (It was probably super apparent to them when they couldn't zip up their jeans that morning and they had a nervous breakdown because they had nothing to wear that fit...)

If you tell someone (in any way) that they are getting fat, have gained weight, or anything like that, you are an asshole. This includes girls, guys, kids...Anyone. Nobody wants to hear your opinion on their weight. Nobody. Plus, saying this only ruins someone's day and makes them feel bad about themselves.

This includes backwards compliments as well. I know you likely mean well, and you're only trying to be nice when you tell me that I have a "pretty face," or that I "wouldn't look good as a skinny person." But damn, can't you say something nice without bringing my flubs into it?! A simple "You look nice today" will suffice.

The BS Club

2011-07-12T17:07:00.005-05:00

Today I joined a club called the BS Club. (No seriously, I did.) It's a legit club in Portage and it means what you think it means; bull shit. (click here to read a story I wrote about them.)

The BS Club has been around for roughly the same amount of time that I've been around. The president, Don Whyte, is a retired school teacher who is as cheeky as the club itself. He has this charm and genuine sense about him that renders you to fall in love in about eight seconds flat. (And I don't necessarily mean you fall in love with him. No, you fall in love with the notion that there is a club in Portage la Prairie that has been around for a long, long time and it's called the BS Club, and the members are as you think they would be; laid back and friendly!)

So I joined the club today. My membership cost me $5 and it's good for an entire year. I got a membership card and I even have my own BS number (it's 83 in case you were wondering...) If I so desire, I can meet the club members (who basically consist of anyone who has five bucks and wants to be in the BS Club) every Tuesday at the Cat and the Fiddle bar at the Midtown Motor Inn in downtown Portage, where they drink beer and hold raffles. It's not formal, yet it's a staple Tuesday afternoon to the longtime members.

Did I mention I'm in love?!

The BS Club also does something else that's beyond cool; twice a year they donate $500 to different charities that help people. Why? Because they want to help people.

If you're ever in Portage on a Tuesday afternoon, swing by the Cat and the Fiddle at the Midtown Motor Inn and buy yourself a membership for the BS Club. You don't need to drink, or even buy into the daily raffle. You'll probably feel compelled to, but you don't have to. Heck, you don't have to do anything you don't feel like doing in the BS Club, it's a 'whatever goes' kinda club!

Bottom line: I guarantee you that you'll fall in love with the club and its members.

Number 83, signing off...

(Note: I didn't partake in any drinking at the BS Club today, FYI.)

these days...

2011-07-04T08:02:00.005-05:00

Life is chaotic these days.

I just finished my weekend stint at my part time job, and am now getting ready for my work week at the newspaper. I'm tired, but this is what I need to do right now to move forward in my career. It will pay off one day, that's what everyone keeps telling me.

I enjoy being a journalist, it's hard work, but extremely rewarding. I like telling people's stories, and I'll admit, I still get excited when I get the cover. I try not to act excited, or even tell anyone, but it's a good feeling. I hope I never stop getting excited about it.

One of the most difficult challenges I've faced so far is the unfamiliarity that comes with being new to a community. As time goes on, I'm becoming more and more familiar with Portage la Prairie; both the city and the people, but the first little while was downright hard. Not knowing your surroundings is uncomfortable because you always feel like you're lost, and it's your job to not only find yourself (so to speak) but to also tell the entire community the story (or stories) you've been assigned as though you're one of them. Nobody wants to read news from an outsider; would you?!

Even being lost was a good thing for me, because it's something I've never experienced before, and it's a learning curve that makes me better at my job. Right now I'm working at becoming a member of the community– or at least an honourary member. Since I'm only working in Portage for the summer, I'm not relocating, but I am trying really hard to fit in.

In all the job is good. I am getting better at my craft, and learning a whole new side of being a journalist– I falsely assumed that working a small community newspaper would be a synch, especially since I have experience writing for the Winnipeg Free Press and the Winnipeg Sun. I've discovered that, like most jobs, being a journalist differs from place to place. The overall job is the same, but there are subtle differences that makes each experience its own.

NOTE: The pic doesn't really go with the post, but I like it. I'm wearing dollar store reading classes because I think I need glasses, but I am far too busy to go to an optometrist and find out...

The Picture

2011-07-01T10:53:00.006-05:00

I got some mail from school yesterday. When I opened it, I saw that it was a picture of me and CTV's Kelly Dehn, taken at a Red River College awards dinner a few months ago.

I looked terrible.

Aside from being ungracefully huge, my hair and makeup looked ratty and tired, and I'm making this face like I'm about to say something. It's an awful picture, it really, really is.

I don't know why, but I started to cry almost instantly after I looked at it. There I was, standing in the hallway of my apartment; I couldn't look away, yet I couldn't look directly at it either. The picture seemed to have this sort of power over me. At that moment, all the denial I have about myself and the way I look was washed away with that raw image. It was like a tsunami of cold hard reality. There I am in all of my glory, holding my coveted award, and I look like that.

Barf.

It's vain to care so much about your appearance, I know that. I also know that an "educated woman" should be smarter than to let something so superficial, like her appearance, dictate how she thinks and how she feels about herself. Logically I am on top of the word; or at least I was that day the picture was taken. Yet looking at the picture now, from outside of my denial, it just seems so awful and embarrassing.

This should motivate me to do something about my appearance. If I don't like it, I should change it. I do subscribe to that mentality, it's what got me through school. Yet, here I am, at the pinnacle of so many unfathomable life accomplishments, being sucked in by my incessant weight preoccupation and negative self image.

My attitude toxic and far uglier than the picture.

I heard this song on the Ace Burpee show the other day. It was profound to me now (more than ten years later...) Sound advice, that I should consider when I get bummed out about stupid things like pictures that I look bad in.

Life is short, right?!

Tights are NOT pants...

2011-06-28T23:49:00.006-05:00

Yesterday I wore a long plaid shirt and capri tights to work. It was hot outside and I wanted something comfortable to wear. (I'll admit that until yesterday I never wore the tights alone. They've always been paired with a dress or skirt) But I was feeling bold, and I figured that it was time to shine and to make a statement and own my child-baring hip-hugging tights...

(That morning I was having a bona fide "You Go Girl Moment")

Needless to say, I wore the tights and I thought I looked pretty darn good. (No really, I even took pictures of myself in the bathroom because I wanted an outfit shot in the big mirror...) I thought I had coordinated a decent outfit that was trendy-ish.

Later that afternoon I was assigned to cover an awards ceremony at the local high school. My mission was to take pictures of the grads accepting awards for their hard work and academic achievements.

"OK," I thought. "This'll be a synch."

Hell, it's only a couple of photos right?!

So I get to the high school, and I am sitting at the back of the gym with the teachers. I feel a little self conscious, but I pass it off as me just being me. I ignore the feeling and sit there, waiting for the grads proceed into the gym. When they do, I get up and start to take all kinds of pictures.

Click, click, click, flash...

This is all fine and dandy, however when it came time to take pictures of students accepting their awards, I realize that I'm going to have to get bold and walk on up to the front of the entire room. (My lens isn't good enough to capture close-ups. I gotta do what I gotta do, right?!) Even though I already have this weird sort of phobia about high schools and walking in front of people, I go for it.

"OK," I thought. "I can do this."

So when it comes time for the next kid to accept their award, I get up and I start walking to the stage. I instantly notice that my shoes are stupidly loud, and I start to chicken out because I am making so much noise.

Clunk, clunk, clunk, clunk...

I stop halfway down the row, kneel down and start snapping photos.

"I gotta get some good pics," I tell myself. "A good reporter would."

My photos are decent, but I can do better. I need to get even closer to the action. The principal calls the next award recipient's name, the crowd starts to clap, and I make my move. (Trying to hide my noisy shoes in the applause. Brilliant.)

I am now even closer to the stage, I start crouching down and snapping shots of the students, the awards, the presenters, the teachers on stage...Everything and anything I can think of that might make for a good shot. I've turned into a trigger-happy wanna be photographer.

I should note that as I am taking pictures, I am still on the floor, trying to stay out of everyone's way. (There were hundreds of people behind me, watching their kids, the last thing I wanted to do was to distract them or to disturb this moment for them.) I'm crouching, and on my knees, and then getting up and crouching down. I'm all over the place, thank goodness I wore tights since they're so easy to move in...

I finally finish up, the ceremony ends, and I walk back to my car on the gorgeous sunny afternoon. I feel as though I have captured some good shots; mission accomplished.

Well, as it turns out, later that day I ran into a friend of mine and he informed me that my pants were see-through.

"They look like panthose, maybe just a little less see-through," he said, adding that the sunlight made my tights even more transparent. "I can see everything."

I was mortified.

I'll admit, the tights felt like leotards, but since they didn't have that weird seem running up the butt like leotards do, I thought they were safe to wear as pants. (Plus, I bought them in the pants section at Walmart for goodness sakes. I bought them in the PANTS SECTION.) That morning I even made sure to look in the mirror at least a thousand times before leaving for work, because this was my first tiem wearing them without a skirt or dress. They felt a little light, but I certainly didn't notice that they were see-through.

"Oh my god," I thought.

"Well, at least you're not wearing granny panties," was his reply.

More utter humiliation.

He can see my underwear. Everyone can see my underwear. Everyone already saw my underwear. Things have gone so far downhill, I am literally walking around naked and I have been walking around parading my gigantic half naked bum all day. I went to the high school and stood up in front of everyone, taking pictures and crouching all over the place. I went to work, and walked around like nothing was amiss. I went to the gas station, Tim Horton's and Safeway like this. I was out there, showing my shit all over Winnipeg and Portage. I'd venture to say that at least a couple hundred people saw my half naked bum in my see-through tights that I bought in the pants section of Walmart, that aren't even pants.

This was mortifying. It felt like a Josie-Grossie moment (You know, Never Been Kissed, where Drew Barrymore goes back to high school as an undercover reporter, but no matter how hard she tries, she just isn't cool. Yep, that was me...)

The bottom line friends, tights are not pants. Stop trying to make them into something they're not and just accept them for what they are. Tights are NOT pants.

a little bit of stuff...

2011-06-16T23:49:00.005-05:00

I don't even remember the last time I was this bad at blogging.

Nearly a month has gone by since my last blog post, which was also infrequent. A lot has happened, yet I feel like I have nothing to say. (Bizarre, I know.)

So I'm finally a paid journalist now.

I've been working a summer gig in Portage, at its paper(s). The work is good, but a lot harder than I imagined it would be. (Seriously, I didn't peg community-based news to be so difficult to write, but it is! It's a whole new element to what I've learned in CreComm, but, every day is a learning experience, and I've learned a lot from this gig already... Sometimes it seems like I still haven't learned it all yet, and I get frustrated with myself– it's tough to jump head first into something you know absolutely nothing about, especially when you're supposed to be so good at what you do... I imagine this is how it feels to start at any new job.)

Anyway, the gig is good, the people are nice, and I am certainly learning a lot.

Life has been very good to me as of late, I really should start blogging more so I can tell you all about it. While I'm at it, maybe I should brag and name drop a little. (I'm mostly kidding. I don't really have anything to brag about. hahaha)

Anyways.

This is just getting uncomfortable.

Let's just call this the awkward post to break the ice. Now that I've broken the ice, I promise that I will start blogging on a more consistent basis from now on. I swear. (I like how I'm actually writing this post as though I am writing to masses of devastated people who actually read my blog. I mean, I know my mom probably misses being in the blog loop, but for the love of Roxy, I have to remember to remind myself that I'm not famous, and that a mass of people don't read my blog. Sometimes I forget. No really, I do...)

Anyway, life is good, but I am still insanely busy. (I thought that was supposed to stop after CreComm was over? Like, I graduated. I'm supposed to be travelling down easy street, making buckets of money, with the rest of the CreComm mafia. Aren't I?! Aren't the rest of you travelling down easy street, making buckets of cash?! No? Oh...) Ugh.

Either way, this journey has begun...

I'll blog more soon readers (AKA Mom.)

Cheers.

How badly do I want this?!

2011-05-19T16:01:00.006-05:00

Now that school's over I'm going through the exciting and nerve-racking experience of looking for a job. And as it turns out, there appears to be no jobs for new journalists in Winnipeg. (What did I expect though, really, they told us this going into school...) Most postings ask for three to five years years of field-related experience. That doesn't stop me from applying, but I'm also realistic about my chances of even getting an interview, never mind the job!

So, like so many new journalists do, I've started applying outside the province.

This is the way that the industry works; your success in landing a job depends not only on how good you are, but how far you're willing to go. The smaller markets are the places that people start. You can't expect to not have to work your way up in this industry.

I've spent the last couple of days, sending out resumes to places that I know very little about, or in some cases, have never even heard of. I've researched each place, googling to find out how far I'd have to venture away from home, and what I'd have waiting for me if I did get a job there. I've thought about long drives home, and about how much time I'd have in solitude, because I'd have no friends. My over-active mind has allowed me to think of all the good and bad aspects that would come with chasing my dreams outside of my comfort zone...

This entire process has forced me to ask myself: How badly do I really want this?!

Pretty bad.

I see moving out of this province as something that is both scary and exciting. Sure, if I got a job outside of Winnipeg I'd be sad to leave my family and friends, but the way I look at it is that I finally have the opportunity to do something that I've always wanted to do. I have worked so hard over the last four years that I can't let something like geography stop me from building my dream career.

I don't want to have any regrets about not pursuing my dream job simply because I was too scared to leave home. I can't imagine anyone not being scared to uproot themselves, but scarier than moving is living with a looming "what if" for the rest of my life.

Perhaps I'll land an awesome gig in Winnipeg. Perhaps I won't. Either way, the adventure is just beginning...

Image: http://mikelucero21.wordpress.com/2010/02/25/how-bad-you-want-it/

At this moment...

2011-04-20T23:17:00.006-05:00

It's been awhile since I've blogged. Life is hectic, even though I am finished CreComm. (I was foolish to think that things would slow down once school ended. I am still extremely busy and even far more exhausted than I've ever been in my life. I think the last two years have officially caught up with me!)

I've been meaning to blog, but I keep putting it off because I don't have anything clever or witty to say. To be honest, I am just so happy right now; my life is becoming something that I never thought it would be...There is a light at the end of the tunnel!

I don't want to sound cheesy or like I'm bragging, but life is good and I worked damn hard to get where I am. Right now I am relishing in it.

My work placement at HOT 103 is coming closer to an end, which means I am on the hunt for a job! I'm so excited (and a little bit scared) for this next chapter in my life, because I am comfortable right now, and because I never thought I'd be able to do what I love for a living.

Now that CreComm is actually over, the sky really is the limit...

I will continue to blog, so please keep my on your blog-lists. (I promise, the next post will be better, I swear!)

Dirty Downtown

2011-04-04T18:29:00.010-05:00

It's the heart of this prairie city; the centre hub with veins leading to all four corners of what is known as urban sprawl. It's a place where beggars stand on street corners holding out their hats, or battered Tim Hortons cups, in the hopes that somebody will spare a little dignity. It's a place where the sidewalks are littered with spit and piss and millions of cigarette butts, and where trendy cafes set up shop next to dilapidated buildings that once-upon-a-time ago used to be glorious and hold so much promise. It's business in the afternoon and fear and paranoia after 6 p.m.

It's downtown Winnipeg.

On Graham Street the busses flow steadily during the afternoon peak hours. The bus stops are crowded with all kinds of people, waiting for the number 16, 18, 33, and so on...to get them safely out of the dirty strip. Most of the people downtown are just passing through anyway, only a handful actually stay.

Nobody makes eye contact. Instead, people literally look off into nothing, just to make sure they don't accidentally catch someone else's eye.

The hierarchy of downtown dwellers is evident as workers with name badges and swipe cards on lanyards walk in pairs and groups with their Starbucks coffees, ignoring the vagrants and avoiding the clusters of teenagers. They make idle chatter as the sound of pebbles crunch under their feet. Everything in downtown is dirty, especially now that the snow is gone and the sidewalks are adorned with soggy cigarette butts and garbage.

At the edge of downtown is the Bay; it stands erect at six glorious stories of classic architecture and boasts childhood memories from all Winnipeggers of all living generations. It is arguably one of Winnipeg's most patriotic symbols, because it has always been there. The Bay is the only place in downtown that represents what used to be and what could have been. While the rest of downtown crumbled in failure, it is still timeless for the throngs of white-haired ladies that gather to shop for high quality wears.

However, even the Bay in all of it's glory isn't enough to breathe life into the sluggish strip.

Yes, during the day there is nothing still about downtown Winnipeg, but it certainly isn't a proud metro gathering spot where people flock. It used to beat with the pulse of life, but now it is weak and old and terminally ill. It seems hopeless to try and fix it, people like their suburban homes and cars too much.

Downtown.

Brushing your hair is for suckers....

2011-03-29T23:11:00.001-05:00

I just wanted to post this picture because it's hilarious.

More blog tomorrow, I'm all out of thoughts right now.

Canadian Politics (And the 2011 Federal Election) for Dummies:

2011-03-29T05:52:00.007-05:00

Before 1960 an Aboriginal person had to give up their treaty rights if they wanted to vote in Canada. (Click here to read an Elections Canada study on Aboriginal people and the federal election.)

In 2008, when the Harper government won a minority seat in the House of Commons, Canada saw its lowest voter turnout ever, with only 58.8 per cent of eligible voters hitting the the polls.

Low voter turnout is linked to age, education, and a persons socio-economic conditions.

The Harper government is the first government in Canadian history to be found in contempt of parliament. The reason is because the Tories would not disclose how many taxpayer dollars they'd spent (or, are spending) on military fighter jets and prisons after being asked numerous times by the opposition.

Harper and his Conservatives were brought down by a non-confidence vote last friday, which is why we are having another federal election.

A Minority government means that the cabinet does not have an overall majority over the seats in parliament, therefore they depend on support (or votes) from other members to pass bills and achieve goals.

There are currently 308 seats in the House of Commons, before the Conservative government was toppled by the non-confidence vote they held 143 seats. The opposition made up the rest of the seats with the Liberals holding 77 seats, The NDP holding 36 seats, The Bloc Quebecois at 47 seats, two independent seats and three vacant seats.

This is the fifth federal election in 10 years for Canada.

A Federal election costs Canadian taxpayers, on average, about $300-million.

If you're not sure where you stand, click here to do CBC's Vote Compass; a survey that will show you which party your political beliefs most align with.

sticks and stones...

2011-03-27T09:34:00.005-05:00

Yesterday I was sitting with a group of people, eating my lunch, and talking shop. I had a big plate of food, and as embarrassed as I am to admit this, I ate every single last bite of it. (I was so hungry, I hadn't had a chance to eat since breakfast about seven hours prior to that, so I did devour it...)

The girl beside me had the same lunch as I did (it was the daily cafeteria special) and she ate about half of hers. By comparrison, I did look like a pig... I was just so hungry.

A few minutes after I finished eating, the elderly man sitting across from me made a comment about my appetite and my weight. He said something along the lines of how I can always be counted on to eat a big plate of food like that.

"...And it shows, it really shows," he said.

The people around the table laughed. (To be fair, it could have been because they were uncomfortable, as one of them later admitted to me in a tearful apology.) I was mortified. I started to get really hot and it seemed like time started to slow down. I could feel the lump forming in my throat but I just kept telling myself not to start crying in front of these people. I needed to escape.

"Don't let them see you cry. Don't let them see you cry..."

I said a few choice words to this man, but he was just smirking at his attempt at humour. I got up and stormed away, my pride was crushed into a lump in the back of my throat. It was only a matter of time before I would cry.

I took refuge in the empty first aid room, and just like a tsunami of emotion, my tears began to fall fiercely. I could feel my lunch, like an unsettled rock, in the pit of my stomach. I felt like I was going to be sick. I called my sister, who probably couldn't even understand me because I was sobbing hysterically.

"He called me fat, and everybody laughed. They laughed," I said.

Like any big sister would she demanded to know who said that. (Sisters are wonderful, because no matter what, if someone hurts you, they've got your back.)

After I told her the entire story she told me to leave. She offered her family to hang out with me (she was in Churchill, otherwise she probably would've come and got me). When I declined, she made sure to call and message me every half and hour to make sure I was ok.

I've been called fat directly and indirectly all my life, most of the time when it happens I laugh it off. But for some reason this entire scenario cut like a knife, and I couldn't stop crying. It felt like one of those traumatic moments out of a movie when the nerdy kid does something, like drop her lunch in the cafeteria, and everybody stops to point and laugh.

It was certainly humbling.

Perhaps this was lady karma serving me up a slice of humble pie for my less than stellar attitude towards others (at times...) I dunno, but it got me thinking that no matter how old we are, and no matter where we are in life, bullying still exists and it hurts. Perhaps the elderly man was just trying to be funny, I don't know, but he hit a nerve.

I guess this is a good reminder for me, and anyone who reads my blog to be mindful of how we treat others.

Winnipegisms

2011-03-25T23:42:00.005-05:00

I've been getting pretty nostalgic about Winnipeg lately.

I think this is because I am coming to that point in my life where I predicted that I would've already purchased my one-way ticket outta here. I mean, school's coming to an end, I have nothing holding me back (kids, husband, mortgage...) and I've always wanted to leave.

However, now that leaving this city is becoming more and more of a feasible option, I am getting all sentimental and mushy about all things Winnipeg. In fact, I've made a list of Winnipegisms that I feel represent the people and culture of this cold, but sunny city.

1. CLEARANCE: In most cities, people buy things based on what they like. In Winnipeg people buy things based on how much it costs, whether they like it or only sort of like it. The cheaper something is, the more likely a Winnipegger is to buy it first and find a use for it second...

The icing on the clearance cake is that the Winnipegger will then they brag about how little they paid for the item to every single person that ever comments on it. Forever.

Friend: "Oh, I like your jacket!"

You: "Thanks, I got it for five dollars on clearance at Forever 21!"

Friend: "Really? When?"

An omission of an awesome deal will ALWAYS trigger another Winnipegger to ask when and where the item was purchased; even if they don't want the same sale item as you, they ~~want~~, er, need to get to that store to see what other treasures they can find for a bargain.

Hell, every single one of us drives to Grand Forks or Fargo to get deals at American stores.

In an ironic twist that kind of doesn't make sense, we'll shop till we drop in the States and then stay there for 48-hours because we don't want to spend money on paying duty, yet we'll happily fork out cash for cheap hotel rooms and American buffets...

I'm just throwing this out there for everyone, but how much do you usually save on duty charges compared to the cost of hotel, food and two days worth of shopping?!...

Just sayin'...

2. We love to hate: As Winnipeggers we are taught from a young age just how shitty life in the prairies is. It's cold, we're the murder capital of Canada pretty much every single year, we don't have an Ikea (yet), other provinces and places in the world make fun of us...

Most of us develop an extremely low sense of community self esteem. We're emo.

However, on the other side of this community apathy, there is a really marred sense of civic pride. You see, if a non-Winnipegger starts making fun of our province, or the way we do things, we get defensive and downright angry. (This might be where the murder capital thing comes in, I'm not sure...)

For example:

Vancouverite: "Wow, Winnipeg is small and it's cold, and you don't have an IKEA here! -- I can't wait to go back to Vancouver where famous celebrities reside and shop at the same Whole Foods that I shop at."

Winnipegger: "Bitch please! -- Has your province ever won the title of Slurpee capital of the World?! No, didn't think so, cause we win it every single year. Booyah!"

But really, nobody but other Winnipeggers can talk shit about our province. Nobody.

3. Open-toed shoes and mini skirts in minus forty temperatures: I've got to hand it to Winnipeg girls; they're the only species out there that can rock open-toed shoes, a mini skirt and a light jacket with just a tube top underneath it in -40 degree Celsius weather for as long as it takes to get into a the bar.

Sure there might be a windchill warning in effect, and yes science has proven that bare skin freezes at a stupidly high rate when it is exposed to extreme weather conditions, but Winnipeg girls are an anomaly. They really are, because they'll shiver and complain the whole time they're waiting in line, but no matter how cold it is most of them will stay in that lineup until they get into the bar. Being cold isn't even be an after thought once they get in, cause DAMN they look good...

4. The Winnipeg Jets: Our beloved NHL team was ripped away from us 15-years ago and we still mourn as though it just happened. The team died before some of the kids who are wearing its merchandise now were even born, and every couple of months local media fuels the fire about an NHL team possibly coming back.

Sure the team wasn't what you'd call a top winning team, and yes I understand that people only started attending games regularly once it was announced that they might be taken from us, but pretty much every single Winnipegger has a little bit of Jet blood running through their veins. (Oh, and also I think Winnipeg has the highest population of Gary Bettman haters in the world...)

5. We like to give: Winnipeggers are notorious of being generous when it comes to giving to charities. We're an empathetic bunch who dig deep to help each other, and it's awesome.

that being said, we still really need to work on not being the murder capital of Canada anymore. Giving is awesome, killing is not...

You know what time it is...It's CAKE O'Clock.

2011-03-21T19:38:00.005-05:00

The other day I thought it was a good idea to make a cake. My logic was this: If I wanted something sweet and tasty to eat I would have to make it myself, the way the pilgrims did. I thought this would be a good diet strategy because it would mean that I couldn't just buy something...

However, as it turns out, my math was a little off, and this is the worst diet I've ever tried! You see, instead of having an individualized snack, I had an entire cake.

Fail.

Anyways, I ended up throwing half of the cake in the garbage. I started to feel bad about myself as I stuffed forkfuls of frosted goodness into my mouth.

I ate my emotions...

(P.S. Even though eating half a cake is always gross, I did this over the course of three days...Barf.)

Breaking up is hard to do...

2011-03-21T11:26:00.001-05:00

Ah the break up.

I was lying in bed last night, trying to fall asleep, when I was struck with a slap-you-in-the-face-light-bulb-kinda-revelation about break ups.

Right now you're probably like: "But Shelley, you're single and you've been single forever, how can you know anything about break ups?"

Perhaps you're right, but lest we forget that I'm old and I've been through some doozies. So have a little faith that I do know a good break up when I see one...

At this stage of the game I'd venture to say that we've likely all been down that road to heartbreak before-- This is that period in our lives where cheesy love ballads and bitter break up songs become a poignant part of our days; where some of us will change our Facebook statuses to cryptic messages of love and loss (Or, even worse, song lyrics...) Or, where we'll take up poetry and/or journal writing.

"I've never written a poem before, but I feel so sad that I just want to express my pain in a rhyming structure of words..."

(Yeah, I don't get it either, but I bet there is a study out there that can correlate breaking up and poetry.)

For most of us the ultimate experience of a break up is lost because it is marred by psychotic episodes of irrational emotion and a distorted sense of self entitlement. In fact, I dare say that reliving a break up in hindsight is often hilarious and awkwardly embarrassing.

You see friends, there are certain things we do when we hit the all-time low of ending a relationship. these things, usually out of the normal scope of who we are, and are often insane.

This is why I've decided to compile a list of breakup behaviours...

1. Cry: Not all of us are criers, but for those of us who are, ending a relationship is like opening an uncontrollable time-bomb of tears. I remember when I broke up with this dude who I dated for a little over four years , I cried for days. I probably even cried for weeks, I don't remember. All I know is that any little reminder of him would send me into a frenzy of tears, and let me tell you, EVERYTHING reminded me of him. Heck, people would say hello to me and I would burst into tears.

"I remember when he used to say hello to me, it was just like that...Waaaahhhhh!!"

It was awkward, but it leads us to our next break up behaviour...

2. Telling EVERYONE you know how sorry he'll be one day: There's this weird thing about human beings, we need justification from other people (and from ourselves) that we're better than our current situation. When someone gets dumped (or endures a break up because their partner did something wrong, like cheat) the scorned person usually looks to other people for confirmation that they're better.

"He'll be sorry. I bet nobody else can cook a roast like me, or can do that (insert explicit sexual reference here) or will love him as much as I did...He's stupid, he doesn't know how good he had it. And you know what, I'm happy I'm out of that relationship, because I realize that I could never date a man who doesn't appreciate me for me. And you know what, he'll be rudely awakened by the next girl he dates, because she won't compare to me and that's when he'll realize how good I am, but by then it will be too late. TOO LATE...I'll get the last laugh, and I feel sorry for him, because even though he deserves to be laughed at, I don't want to hurt him..."

Depending on how scorned a person feels, these conversations can be reiterated (to numerous people) for weeks, even months. It's a tiresome task to be friends with someone who got dumped...

3. Appetite: Most people who are mourning the loss of their relationship either suffer from break up anorexia, where they are too sad and depressed to eat, or they have an insatiable appetite because they are literally eating their emotions. (Hence, they're hungry for the sads.)

I've done both, neither are pretty.

4. Error in judgement which leads to an inability to decipher a compliment from a pass, which leads to a rebound or a full blown case of being slutty: As the break up wears on, emotions change back and forth from sadness to anger to relief, back to sadness, back to anger, and so on...

During all of this the one thing you can count on is your inability to see clearly and your starvation for attention. (You may not see this in yourself, but the stench of desperation you are emitting is clear to the people around you, especially guys like Mr Smooth, who will try to take advantage of it.)

It is important to note that just because you and Mr Smooth may have things in common, like eating, sleeping and breathing, you likely do not have a "connection" or a "spark." In fact, you don't have a "connection" or a spark" but that's what you're going to tell yourself when you go back to his parents place after a drunken night at the Pal.

And last, but certainly not least, the final break up behaviour that seems like a good idea at the time...

5. Communication: The psychotic phone calls, texts, visits, notes, emails, etc to the ex: People waiver back and forth a trillion times about whether or not this break up was the right thing to do. Hell, you'll justify why you should be together, why you shouldn't, and what you'll tell your friends if and when you decide to go back.

It's a vicious cycle that starts with a tiny ounce of communication:

YOUR TEXT: "Hey"

HIS TEXT: "Hey"

In no time it will spiral out of control, that 'Hey' will quickly turn into 'I love you' or 'I miss you.' At this point you're pretty much fucked.

However, nobody can tell you not to communicate with the ex because you're not going to listen. Quitting an ex is like quitting meth or crack, you've got to want to do it.

To conclude, all I have to say is that if you keep any sort of record of your next break up (a journal, poetry, a CD of your favourite sad and angry break up songs...) in a couple of months down the road when you're not sad anymore, I promise you, it'll be hilarious.

PHOTO: http://www.inspirational-friendship-poems.com/break-up-sad-love-poems.html

Volunteer Opportunities...

2011-03-18T12:20:00.005-05:00

School is almost over.

After spending the last two years scratching and clawing my way to achieving my dream of being able to call myself a journalist, I am finally almost there. In just a few short weeks, I will be done. Weird.

I'm excited and nervous about this new chapter, life is bitter-sweet. On one hand, I'm scared to death that I won't be able to find a job, yet at the same time I'm excited that I will soon be able to devote some time to start volunteering again. (Since I started CreComm I haven't been able to volunteer as much as I would have liked to. I'm astounded at how much my lack of doing things for other people has affected my mood in a negative way. I am truly happiest when I am able to do things to help other people.)

Before CreComm, I spent a lot of time volunteering at Winnipeg Harvest. I worked in the warehouse and was a member of the public education committee. I met so many wonderful people at Harvest, and I credit my experience there for being life altering. (I went there with a mission of changing the world, and emerged as a changed person. In hindsight I can say with certainty that I needed them more than they needed me.)

I'm not sure if I will go back to Harvest once I am done school. I mean, I love it there, and I will always consider myself a part of the Harvest family, but there are so many different places that need volunteers that I might venture to try something new. (Or maybe I will do Harvest and something else?!) Who knows...

I'd like to take my niece volunteering so that she can learn early on in life how important it is to help other people (and herself.)

School is almost over, the countdown is on.

Winnipeg's Great War: Jim Blanchard

2011-03-14T21:26:00.003-05:00

For journalism class we had to read Winnipeg's Great War by Jim Blanchard. The book, which is about Winnipeg during the WWI era (1914-1918) is a factually rich account of what happened in our province (which, at that time, was the third largest in Canada) during World War One.

From the first page of this 267 page monster of a book, Blanchard spares no details of what was a revolutionary time for Winnipeg, and the world. For this reason, Winnipeg's Great War needs to be read with a great deal of care and consideration in order to absorb everything that he throws at you.

I found the book extremely interesting, yet hard to digest. (Not because it wasn't good, but just because of all the information that was being thrown my way.) Often I found that I would read a few pages of the book and discover that I wasn't paying well enough attention to the content, so I would have to re-read or forge ahead, depending on my time and schedule. Still, it was a good book, and I recommend it to anyone who is interested in learning bout Winnipeg's history.

I was specifically interested in how Blanchard explained that people rallied behind the War efforts so much that they invested in war bonds. (My grandma took out a loan for $50 so she could buy a war bond during WWII. Many of her brothers and friends from the reserve fought in the war, including her younger brother Tommy Prince, a now decorated war hero.)

It was interesting to see the mentality of people back then...

I am excited to lend Winnipeg's Great War to my (other) grandma who was born in 1919, so we can talk about it. (She is a member of the IODE) Although I think I should re-read it first, because I was rushed the first time.

Professionalism during a meltdown

2011-02-28T22:43:00.006-06:00

I haven't been able to take my eyes off the Charlie Sheen tirade all day. What started with me reading an Associated Press article about Sheen's shenanigans has quickly turned into a full-flegged Sheen addiction.

I can't stop watching, reading, commenting on, re-watching, etc all things Sheen (Circa the last couple of days.) I'm hooked. How can I not be when Sheen is spewing out phrases like:

"I'm Bi-Winning," When asked if he was Bipolar. Or, "I'm on a drug, it's called Charlie Sheen. It's not available because if you try it you try it you will die. Your face will melt off and your children will weep over your exploded body," was his response when the reporter asked if he was on drugs.

The man is hilarious and animated, even in crisis. (I know that's terrible for me to say and I have contemplated the millions of ways that karma will get me for enjoying Charlie Sheen's meltdown this much, but alas, the man is funny.)

I am astounded at Good Morning America reporter, Andrea Canning's composed demeanour throughout this train-wreck of an interview. I give her credit for maintaining a cool and professional attitude during Sheen's tirade, I am not sure I could have done it.

CreComm: Before and after

2011-02-18T23:06:00.005-06:00

BEFORE

AFTER

Hooray, it's reading week! I'm tired and I need a vacation (and a hair cut.)

There is a first time for everything.

2011-02-14T22:59:00.004-06:00

School is quickly coming to an end. In a few short months most of us will graduate from this program and move onto bigger and better things (so to speak) in our lives.

I'm so excited.

It will be awesome to finally be able to make some money and not have to worry so much about amassing more debt than I'm bringing in, and all those nightly homework sessions will be a thing of the past.

It will also be nice to unwind from the gruelling two years that I've endured at the hands of the CreComm instructors, who, with all due respect, are the toughest people I've ever met. Most of all though, I am excited to just graduate– I'm excited to invite my family to a boring convocation ceremony, and have my 15 seconds of fame as I hear my name being called out when I walk across the stage to get my diploma. I'm so excited because that's something I've never really done before...Unless you count kindergarten and grade nine.

But really, I never graduated.

In all my 31-years, I've never been able to wear that cap and gown, nor have I had grad photos taken. I've never been called across a stage to pick up my diploma while my family snaps pictures of me, and I've never been to a grad party.

Nope. I missed that boat.

I dropped out of high school at the age of 16 because I thought I was dumb. Ever since I was a kid I'd always had a really hard time concentrating or learning anything in school. As I got older it only got worse; I failed grade eight, I ended up in summer school a bunch of times, and I barely passed my classes no matter how hard I tried.

Instead of seeking or getting help, I slipped through the cracks of the public school system until I finally quit.

I ended up getting my GED when I was in my early 20s; I wrote the test and they sent me my results with a copy of my diploma. It didn't have a gold sticker on it, and I think the signature might have been computer generated, but that piece of paper meant that I technically completed grade 12, and I was proud of it.

Still, I always sort of felt like I missed out on a grad.

Now, with the end of CreComm right around the corner, I can't even explain what it means to finally be able to say that I've graduated something. As stupid as it may seem, I can't wait to see what I look like in a cap and gown...

There is a first for everything...

Live your dream

2011-02-09T22:47:00.005-06:00

Until a few years ago I thought it was my destiny to live in Winnipeg and make my living as a casino worker. At the time I was OK with that, because I thought it was the best job I could get. It didn't even dawn on me that going back to school and pursuing my "dream job" (a career) was even an option.

Back then I wanted so badly to find my "soul mate" and settle down, so I began to entertain the idea of happily ever after with every boyfriend I ever had for longer than two months. (The two month mark was my indication: If I could last longer than two months with a guy and we didn't hate each other, it was meant to be. It never worked out in my favour though. Not even once. In hindsight, that is probably a blessing... ) Still, I had my life mapped out and it was comfortably mediocre.

I was certain that it would happen if I just waited long enough.

I waited and waited for my life to start. It didn't even dawn on me that while I was waiting for my life to begin, my life was still happening all around me. It never stopped.

I was so oblivious of the real world, because I was too busy planning for my happily ever after, that when I did come to I was completely and utterly lost.

This life that I slept walked through wasn't what I had in mind.

After being burned one too many times by my settling down plans and partners, and after facing (and barely escaping) the firing squad at work, I decided it was time for a change. I figured the only way out was to educate myself, so I enrolled as a mature student at the University of Winnipeg.

After two years at the U of W, I ended up in the CreComm program (Where I am now, finishing up my last semester as a journalism major.)

I never in a trillion years considered that this is the path my life would take. I mean, as much as I have always loved writing, I never once considered that I was good enough to write for the likes of the Winnipeg Free Press and the Winnipeg Sun. (Both publications I have written for since I started CreComm.)

My life now is nothing that I had planned for. I have no idea what's going to happen tomorrow, never mind for the rest of my life. It's hard and tiresome this way, but at least I am actually living it day by day now, instead of missing things by focusing on "one day."

Life is short. Chase your dreams.

Thoughts on the Derksen case as an aspiring journalist.

2011-01-31T13:49:00.006-06:00

I remember when I was a little girl, about four or five-years-old, when 13-year-old Candace Derksen went missing. Well, actually I don't really remember when she went missing, but I do remember when her body was found on January 17, 1985.

Since I was so small, I only remember foggy pieces of Derksen's case. However, one thing I remember vividly is the cold and shocking revelation that the missing girl had been found dead. I cannot put into words the fear her death instilled in me.

That was the first time in my life that I ever had to face death. Even though I was just a little kid, the thought of my own mortality was something that was very real to me.

To be honest, I think Derksen's case was terrifying to Winnipeggers of all ages because it meant that there really was a boogy man and nobody knew who he or she was.

Derksen's case went unsolved for 23 years, until 2007, when DNA evidence fingered Mark Edward Grant as a suspect in the case.

On January 17, 2011, exactly 26 years to the day that Derksen's frozen body was found in an abandoned shed, Grant went on trial.

It's a trial that many Winnipeggers who have carried a piece of Candace around with them for nearly 30-years are ready for. Finally the Derksen's may have their questions answered, or at least find some closure...

As a journalism student, it's kind of surreal to be breaking into the industry at a time where this case (in particular) is being put through the justice system.

Photo: CTV Winnipeg
Video: Ottawa Citizen/Global News

The lovely life

2011-01-27T21:12:00.002-06:00

So I just got back from a pretty intense pity party.

It’s no secret that I’ve been having a rough go of things lately; I live in a mountain of debt. Cable, phone and internet got cut off last month. I lost my BlackBerry yesterday. I banged up my car today by backing up into a pillar and taking out the passenger side mirror. (It’s literally hanging there, by a wire or something...) Not to mention I have to shift bid for work tomorrow...Another whole year of working weekends, 10.5 hour days at the grind, is enough to make anyone feel sorry for themselves.

To tell you the truth, my pity party was an all out gala. It was the grand ball of crybabies. It was the biggest pity party I’d ever been to, let alone hosted...

It was one for the record books.

It all started when I was leaving XS Cargo this afternoon. I had been all over the city, trying to buy a refurbished and unlocked BlackBerry replacement – to no avail, since Rogers told me that the warranty I foolishly paid $100 for doesn’t cover lost or stolen phones. (Ugh, I wouldn’t have shelled out the cash had I known that...) If I wanted a new BlackBerry, it was going to cost me $599.

Bull shit.

Needless to say I was already upset about my life, when it happened, the straw that broke the camel’s back. The icing on the cake. The last hurrah. The big one...

I banged up my car.

Yep. As I was backing out of my parking spot, feeling super pissed off that I couldn’t get my hands of a refurbished BlackBerry, I banged my car up against and into a pillar.

Bang! Scrape. Brake. Fuck.

I got out to survey the damage. My boiling point was already reached and I just started to cry, really, really loud. In my little accident, I managed to take out the passenger side rear view mirror and scrape the door. Today just wasn’t my day.

I picked up broken pieces of the mirror from the ground, stomped back into my car, slammed the door and I kept on crying to my heart’s content. I even tried calling a friend, so that he could listen to me cry and share in my misery. He didn’t answer and it made me cry even more.

I felt defeated. And that, my friends, was the icing on the metaphorical shit cake that was my very bad week.

I’m not going lie; when I say that I cried, I mean I cried like a friggin maniac. I was hysterical as I drove all the way home with my mascara running down my cheeks. I was sobbing some kind of “I give up” chant or something and every so often looking at my swollen eyes in the rear view mirror. I was sitting in the epitome of self pity and my damn side mirror hung in limbo, as though any second it was going to give way to the slushy, messy, bumpy, Winnipeg streets.

Friends, I was frightful.

When I got home, I took my defeated ass up to my apartment and cried a little more until it just got too exhausting. It was then that a hot shower (to wash away my Alice Cooper eyes) was in order, followed by a scoop of mint chocolate ice cream in my bed while watching season four of Sex and the City on my laptop.

Ah, the lovely life of a 31-year-old single student.

As my pity party started to wind down, I started to realize something; if this was as bad as it was going to get, I’m not doing too bad. I mean yes, I literally have no form of communication since my TV, internet and home phone got cut off last month and now my BlackBerry is missing. And sure, I now have another expense that I can’t afford with my car. Oh, and another year of weekends; this sucks, but at least I have a decent job that pays well. That’s more than a lot of other people have, I need to remember not to forget that.

Life isn’t too bad afterall...

I knew that this path wouldn’t be an easy one going into it, but as I near the end of this CreComm chapter, the stress sometimes overwhelms me. It’s not so much the little individual setbacks, like losing my BlackBerry and having no money. It’s all of them combined that sometimes make it a little hard to believe that there is a light at the end of the tunnel.

But when I take a second to consider that I am letting all these small things affect me in such a big way, I need to just stop and count my many blessings. Life is short and small things will always happen.

I will get a new BlackBerry and my car will get fixed, and eventually (when I can work more, thus make more money, I can also restore my TV, internet and home phone.) I’ve hit rock bottom in a material way...So what.

I have a lovely life.

P.S. I am writing this from Starbucks. Thank goodness for laptops and WiFi.

Work Placement

2011-01-25T07:40:00.006-06:00

So I’ve been writing for the Winnipeg Sun for the last couple of weeks as part of my school's work placement program.

Working there has been a pretty incredible experience, not only have I met some awesome people, I also got to be a “pretend journalist.” (There is nothing more vindicating and exciting than introducing yourself: “Shelley Cook, Winnipeg Sun” when you’re interviewing somebody...For the last three weeks I have had some pretty serious local media cred, and I have enjoyed it to its full advantage.)

When I started my placement, I figured I knew what I was getting myself into, especially since I spent last Christmas as an intern, writing for the Winnipeg Free Press. However, I quickly discovered that the two publications are extremely different. (This is the point where people say: “Oh, which one did you like better,” and to that I reply (in all honesty) “I can’t even compare the two because they are both just different. But, I learned a lot working for both of them.” – Yeah, I know that sounds like diplomatic rhetoric, but it’s true. I feel extremely lucky to have seen both sides of the Winnipeg daily newspaper scene.

During my internship, the editors at the Winnipeg Sun assigned a lot of different types of stories to me, which means I’ve collected quite a few more bylines for the ol’ portfolio. (This is also a good thing for my mom, who started a scrapbook of all my published work last year. Cute.)

I’m sad to leave the Sun and go back to real life, but I am thankful for the entire experience as a whole. Right now it feels kinda like one of those bittersweet breakups that you see in the movies: You’re still in love, but you need to break up because it's the time to do so. Sigh.

Photo by: C.Procaylo

Sleep deprived.

2011-01-17T03:58:00.004-06:00

It's 3:58 am and this is my second wake up of the night.

Somebody once told me to never blog about my ailments because it's awkward and nobody likes to hear about that stuff. Yeah, that person hit the nail on the head. However, since it's so early in the morning, and I have woken up not once, but twice in the middle of my sleep, I feel entitled to talk about my affliction.

I can't sleep.

Well, that's a lie, I can fall asleep just fine (for the most part.) My issue is staying asleep through the night. I'm not quite sure when it started, but for at least the last two years (that I can honestly remember and track) I have been unable to make it through an entire night without waking up at least once.

It's the most bizarre thing, because I am always so exhausted.

Most nights I only wake up once in the middle of my sleep, this has become a normal pattern for me. However, on more extreme nights, which don't happen as often thank goodness, I wake up two or three times.

To be perfectly honest, I'm not sure what causes me to this, because nothing in particular wakes me up. One second I am sound asleep and the next second I am back in the land of the living, there is no transition, it's just like BAM, I'm awake. And it doesn't happen as a startle or a jolt or anything, it's just super fast and sudden.

Most nights I'm up for half an hour to an hour. I usually find a snack, blog, and look at my Facebook and Twitter accounts. I am usually wide awake, like I could get up for the day. However I get really tired really fast. (In writing this, I actually fell asleep at the keyboard. Ironic.) It's like the opposite of how I woke up: BAM, I can barely keep my eyes open...

I don't know.

I'd like to make it through the entire night one of these days, but I'm not sure what to do to get there...

Does anyone else have trouble sleeping?!

New Year's Resolution 1: Stop Looking for a Husband

2011-01-06T18:01:00.008-06:00

So one of the New Year's resolutions that I made this year is that I am going to stop looking for a husband.

No really, I am going to stop looking for a husband, he'll find me when he's ready– No really, he will, and if he doesn't I don't care because I'll have an awesome career, a comfortable lifestyle, and a long-haired grey cat to keep me company. (Did I mention that I'm going to get myself a long-haired grey cat one of these days...)

My biological clock on the other hand, it's working overtime to try and convince me that I need to continue the search. I'm not getting any younger, and my pretty days are sneaking away from me.

Oh, what a conundrum.

To be perfectly honest, I don't really want a husband. I mean, yes I want someone to carry in the groceries, take out the garbage, change the oil in my car, and fight with on occasion, but I'd like for them to leave after that.

Is that bad?!

I like my space, I like my ability to be inconsiderate, and most importantly I like dating guys.

This isn't to say that when I find my husband I won't stop being an inconsiderate and selfish slut, cause I totally will...Well, I probably will anyway. I'll give it my best shot. (I'm kidding about being a slut, I'm totally not one. I swear.) Right now I am having a good time not being somebody's wife, so I don't understand why I feel the need to constantly find a husband.

Arrrrgh. It's frustrating. My biological clock is totally going bonkers, and what's worse is that I have started competing with other people (and myself.)

"Oh no, so-and-so is married and has kids, I better get married and have kids too!"

Barf. It's life, not a game. (I have to remember to remind myself that.)

So anyway my first New Year's resolution for 2011 is to stop trying to find a husband.

Work placement, CreComm, and thoughts.

2011-01-06T01:22:00.007-06:00

I've been racking my brain all Christmas, trying to come up with a clever blog post. (hmmph, turns out I am not witty on the drop of a dime after all...)

Life has been hectic, but pretty great.

Right now me and the rest of the second year CreComm students are living the dream at our first work placements. I'm at the Winnipeg Sun; it's neat, although I haven't shaken that overly awkward 'new girl vibe' yet. (True story: The first day I was there, I couldn't even leave my work area because I was paralyzed with shyness and insecurity. I sat at Jillian Austin's desk (my temporary abode) and took way longer than I needed to on a small story about traffic. Awkward, yet hilarious.)

I wonder how everyone else is doing in their placements. I wonder how the first year's are handling their new semester in their new classes with the dreaded magazine project looming in the air. I wonder how the instructors are doing, now that our group is getting ready to fly the coop, and the first year's have grown into full-fledged CreComm students...

I can't imagine that anything is different for the instructors, as this is the same ol' routine that happens every year. However, I wonder if at any point, certain years, classes, and students stand out. Or, do they all just start to blend together!?

Don't forget about me guys, I want to be one of the one's that stands out...

Hello, is this thing on!?

It's hard to believe that school is almost over. This is both a relief and tragically sad. (I love my CreComm classmates with every fibre of my being. I love the instructors, and Red River College itself...Although I am tired, I don't want the ride to be over yet!)

OK, now I am just getting too deep for my own good. (Reflective really; I am just starting to realize that this two years of CreComm has passed rather quickly. I'm both relieved and sad.)

I should probably crawl back into bed before more time passes by; I just woke up for a glass of water and somehow managed to write a blog post about my CreComm apprehensions...

After this, I'll probably need therapy. HA!

The Winnipeg Sun

2010-12-26T00:13:00.001-06:00

I wrote two stories for the Winnipeg Sun's Dec. 24 edition: 35,000 Lights and Stolen Camel

Marketing: Good or bad, I can't tell...

2010-12-18T23:37:00.003-06:00

I took this picture last year at a London Drugs store. I laugh my head off every single time I look at it, and it's become a hit on the internet.

What do you think of the product placement? (I think it fits and it totally makes me want to buy condoms.)

My indie film life.

2010-12-17T22:58:00.003-06:00

I've come to the conclusion that my life is (or could be) the next Sean Garrity Film. Well, sort of anyway. Tonight, as I was walking through Safeway I came to this epiphany that my life is like some sort of sad and provocative indie film.

I can hear myself narrate as life becomes my vantage point and a bunch of over accentuated sounds around me. The camera follows as I make my way up and down the isles, watching me and the people around me. My hair is a mess and my clothes are dirty. I am haggard from hanging out with a two-year-old all day. In my basket I have bananas, yogurt, Draino and Diet Pepsi.

"I can see why people kill themselves at Christmas."

A couple walks by, laughing. I get self-conscious and wonder if they're laughing at me. True, my Friday night plans consist of going home to indulge in a glass of wine and try to unclog the drain in my bath tub that has been clogged for a good week now. But, in all fairness, I have to work in the morning.

Step, step, step. Nobody even looks at me. Except maybe the couple who may or may not be laughing at me.

"I don't want to kill myself, but I can see why people do it. -- For the breeders, this is the time of year that they get to flaunt their children; 'hey world, look at me, I made a baby. barf.' They send out photos of their children, dressed in frilly dresses or little suits, sitting on Santa's lap or enjoying some other kind of festive activity. The lovers, they're no different. Instead of flaunting kids though, they flaunt how much they're in love. These are the people who spend the holidays bragging about what they've bought for for their boyfriend or girlfriend and about the family-filled plans they have. It's a pissing contest, really, with money and things just to show how tangible their love is. The more extravagant the gift, the more you love someone or are loved. And then there are the singles who overcompensate by giving back. They do this partially because it gives them a purpose, and partially because it eases the loneliness of the holidays. These are good people driven by the fundamental human need to be needed...Then there are the people like me. I used to be the lover and the single (never the breeder, thank god.) Now, I'm just tired. I don't fit into any of those categories..."

I begin to stack the Draino, Diet Pepsi, yogurt and bananas onto the conveyer belt cash register. Holly-Jolly Christmas is playing over the PA system and the camera pans to all the of the customers who seem to have some place to go.

"Is that everything for you?" Asks the cashier.

"Yes, thank you."

"That'll be $19.41. Debit? Swipe with the stripe facing out."

Anyway, you get my drift. I'm probably far less interesting than I like to imagine, but whatever. If my life was an indie film something interesting or strange would happen after that. However, in real life I just went home, drank wine and blogged while checking back with Facebook.

Profile: Jackie Traverse

2010-12-09T01:32:00.002-06:00

I made this mini-profile on Aboriginal artist Jackie Traverse.

John Hersey's Hiroshima

2010-11-28T18:50:00.005-06:00

For journalism class we were assigned to read John Hersey’s Hiroshima. I’ve read it before (for a conflict resolution class that I took at the University of Winnipeg) However reading it now, knowing that it was actually written as a form of journalism and not as a piece of non-fiction, it seems to have a different context to me.

Perhaps this is because when I read it before, I never once gave thought to the notion of how hard and how much work would have gone into this piece. What's more, is the fact that Hersey was able to keep a neutral tone throughout the book.

It's hard to stay neutral when writing about emotional issues. Imagine writing about the devistation that happened in Hiroshima after the nuclear bomb was dropped?!

Wow.

In researching Hersey's article, I discovered that it took him a year to write, and it was inteded as a four part series for the New Yorker Magazine. When he handed it into his editor, it was decided that the article would run one entire edition -- cover to cover -- of the Magazine.

The piece lacks any sort of American viewpoint, however that didn't deter Americans from buying that edition of the New Yorker Magazine; it still sold out within hours of hitting the stands.

The book Hiroshima was published the same year the article came out, 1946. It was updated in 1985, to tell the stories of the six main characters 40-years later.

I can't think of a body of work that I can compare to Hiroshima. Hersey's writing style and view of Hiroshima is written in such a way that it makes room for the reader to form their own opinion without him guiding it. Even in journalism, that is hard to find.

Life is like...Uhh, I don't know.

2010-11-23T06:25:00.011-06:00

Oh how the mighty have fallen.

My cable got cut off last week. This morning, it was my home phone. Though I tried to make arrangements with MTS last Friday, my attempt came too late. I couldn't pay a sufficient amount to keep myself connected, so they cut me off. (The disconnection notice came two days prior and was for $149--and change. I only paid $100 of it, with a promise to pay the rest on my next payday at the end of the month. The lady and her supervisor both informed me that it was too late, my credibility was shot. They refused.)

I can live without a home phone and cable, those things aren't even amenities. However, I won't deny that the feeling of being disconnected hurts the 'ol ego a little bit.

The bottom line: I effed up.

Going to school full time has been extremely difficult. College is a lot different than university, and the CreComm program is pretty much a nine to five gig that is loaded with homework to sustain us, the students, through the non-school hours. I knew this going in, but until you live it, you really have no idea how intense and time consuming it is. CreComm is a way of life.

That being said, this week I picked up a few extra shifts at work. -- I already work 20 hours a week regularly, so picking up a few extra hours here and there isn't really a big deal. By the time Sunday rolls around, I will have amassed 40 hours. Thank god! (I'm in a financial crunch at the moment, I need to work because I am too old to live with my folks, I don't have a significant other to share the load with, and I have financial obligations that I made before I became I student that must be paid.)

Needless to say that I am tired, but I know I can do this. I've come too far in this program to fall apart or quit now. (I know I joke about my nervous breakdowns and being overwhelmed, but it gets me through. Let me have it!)

I know that this entire experience will come in handy one day, when this chapter of my life has passed and things become comfortable again. -- The upside of any troublesome situation is that it makes for an excellent story in hindsight. And, hell, I'm a journalist, telling stories is what I want to do for a living...

It's almost time for winter break, which means that I can pick up more shifts at work. I have already decided to leave my television disconnected, but I will probably reconnect my phone and internet once I get back on track.

Life is short, can certainly be chaotic, but I am thankful for all of the experiences I've had thus far...Even the bad ones, like getting my cable cut off. The past year and a half has certainly given me empathy for anyone trying to fight their way through school.

A profound loss.

2010-11-21T21:48:00.007-06:00

When the Olympic torch made it's way through Winnipeg on January 6th of this year, 13-year-old Winnipegger Noah Palansky was the official torch bearer for the city.

Selected by Mayor Sam Katz because of his efforts in raising more than $60,000 (at the time) for CancerCare Manitoba, Noah Palansky was a good choice to carry the torch.

While interning at the Winnipeg Free Press during Christmas break, I had the honour of meeting the Palansky Family when I was assigned to write a story about Noah.

I met the Palansky's at their Winnipeg home, after the kids finished hockey practice one night. They welcomed me into their living room, and began to tell me about their lives.

Noah, at the ripe ol' age of 12 decided that he wanted to participate in CancerCare's Challenge for Life walk. -- His parents were hesitant to let him, because the entry fee to participate was $1,000. However they decided to let him sign up and Noah astounded them, and everyone else, by collecting $14,000 in three weeks. His goal, is to raise $1-million for cancer research. (To date Noah has raised $125,000!)

Noah's inspiration was his mother, Naomi, who had been diagnosed with the disease two years earlier.

"I knew there was nothing medically I could do to fix this," he told me. "So I did what I knew I could do."

After I left the Palansky household, I felt inspired. Bruce and Naomi (the parents) and Noah and Lexi (the kids) seemed like truly wonderful people. They were extremely down to earth and easy to talk to, and they were passionate about Noah's cause. Notably, they were also a huge hockey family, with a dog named Crosby, after Naomi's favourite hockey player, Pittsburgh Penguin's Captain Sidney Crosby.

The story I wrote about Noah was the last one I wrote for the Free Press before returning back to school. It is one that I am proud of because I got to showcase a kid who did -- and is doing -- a great thing.

Sadly, while reading the Obituaries in Saturday's Free Press, I saw Naomi Palansky's obituary notice. The beautiful hockey-mom passed away earlier this month from breast cancer.

I only met the family one time, but I can honestly say that I am profoundly sad that Naomi lost her battle with cancer. She and her family left a warm impression on me, and I was really rooting for her to beat this...

Sometimes, as a journalist, you become connected to your stories and the people in them.

My condolences to the Palansky family.

To make a donation to Noah's campaign, please log on to www.challengeforlife.ca and search for Noah Palansky.

Dear Mr. Harper and Canadian residents, please EDIT your priorities...

2010-11-17T12:03:00.010-06:00

A picture of The Winnipeg Free Press' series No Running Water.

It has been reported that the Canadian Museum for Human Rights is getting $100-million dollars in funding from the federal government, plus $20-million (each) from the province and the city.

Awesome.

I am sure the Canadian Museum for Human Rights will be a great destination for Winnipeggers and tourists alike. Perhaps after people have looked at the state-of-the-art facility with elaborate displays of human rights issues at the museum, they can board a flight to one of the remote northern communities in Manitoba that have no running water, and view the violation of basic human rights on a more primal level...

I don't mean to get down on the museum, as I believe that it is a wonderful idea. In fact, I give a great deal of credit to all of the people who have dedicated their own time and money into the development of this project. These donors should feel great that The Canadian Museum for Human Rights -- Izzy Asper's dream -- is coming into fruition. However, I find it sad that all levels of government can kick in such large pots of money to a human rights museum, when they can't seem to do it for the thousands of Canadians living in remote northern communities (in the very province that the museum is being built!) that don't even have the basic human right of clean drinking water.

It's time for all levels of government to EDIT their perception on these types of issues, and consider that it is a mistake to ignore one part of a story for another.

I'm not against the museum, but I am against the fact that people are being ignored.

This is what exhausted is...

2010-11-16T07:06:00.003-06:00

I am so tired.

Semester three of CreComm is winding down, and the only thing that I can think about is how wonderful it will be to have a couple of days for myself. (As it stands right now, I go to school full time from Monday to Thursday and work ten hour shifts of Saturday and Sunday. Friday is my day of chaos, when I try to get all of my errands done.)

I love this program, but I am beyond burnt out at the moment.

There are only a few weeks left until Christmas break! -- This is both exciting and nerve-racking. (All of these assignments that need to be done, oh my!! And honestly, I am not sure that I am ready to leave the nest. As much as I am overwhelmed by this program, I love it and want to make it my career. "Shelley Cook, lifetime CreComm student!")

Oy.

I am supposed to be blogging about something related to journalism.

JOURNALISM!!

(OK, I admit, this blog post is a bust. Duncan, I will take the fail on this one.)

Embracing the Anti-Diet in a Thin-Starved Society

2010-11-12T11:27:00.006-06:00

Some of the names of people interviewed have been changed at their request. These changes are indicated by the asterisk (*) symbol.

In North America, the diet industry –everything from weight loss programs, books and videos to prepackaged meals, supplements and diet pills – rakes in billions of dollars a year. Corporations have made a lucrative business of packaging and selling the idea that everybody can be skinny to our thin-starved society.

However, the problem with diets and the diet industry, says Maya Radunz, fourth year Human Nutritional Sciences student at the University of Manitoba, is that they don’t work. Not for the long term anyway.

“Losing weight is short term, nothing has been proven to work long term,” said Radunz. “The majority of those (weight loss) programs, people do lose weight on, but they gain it all back because they teach eating behaviors that are not long term behaviors. You can’t always be dieting or tell yourself ‘I’m never going to eat white bread.’ That’s ridiculous, because yes you will, eventually you will.”

Radunz says that instead of focusing on diets and weight loss, people need to change their school of thought when it comes to eating and consider that being healthy isn’t restricted to any one size. Being skinny, she says, is not necessarily an indication that someone is healthy.

“A preoccupation with weight and food is dangerous because it can be a prelude to an eating disorder,” said Radunz. “Society needs to stop thinking that everybody can lose weight, because they can’t. Some people are just bigger, and that’s OK.”

For Grace Macatangay, 27, being bigger wasn’t OK.

The five-foot-two casino security manager said that she was depressed at 155 pounds.

“I thought, I’d like to be more cut,” said Macatangay. “So I ate less carbs and worked out for four hours a day for three months. It was a passion, I was dedicated to it.”

Macatangay admits that she never gave up any particular kind of food, but she did limit her portions of certain types of foods like bread and pasta. She credits her rigorous workout routine, which she still does on a lesser scale, for her 15 pound weight loss.

“It was a lifestyle change, not a diet,” she says. “I still work out four times a week and eat whatever I want. Being healthy is very important to me.”

Kate Greg*, 26, a self described “foodie,” has been on the Weight Watchers program, on and off, for a couple of years.

“Out of all the programs out there, I do believe that Weight Watchers works,” says Greg. “At one point I lost 25 pounds, and then I had a cheat day, which led to another and another…”

Greg admits that she is self conscious about her weight to the point that she sometimes cries.

“I think that the worst thing, in the end, is my self esteem. Yesterday my boyfriend, Jeremy*, had to listen to me cry for half an hour because I couldn’t find anything to wear that looked nice on me,” said Greg. “You can tell I am having a bad day when I wear baggy clothes.”

Radunz says stories like Greg’s are far too common.

“People need to start enjoying food and just listening to their bodies,” she said. “And that will come with size acceptance.”

SOURCES:

Dr. Linda Bacon, a biology professor at San Francisco’s City College explains the theory of “health at every size” that Radunz refers to in the article, on her website: http://www.lindabacon.org/teaching.html

Radunz also uses information gathered from Dr. Michael LeBow’s Dieter’s Snake Pit, http://www.enableme.net/alternativestounhealthydieting/ -- This theory is confirmed at the end of the story when the second woman admits that she cries about not looking or feeling good about herself.

During our interview, Radunz sourced both authors, and even brought copies of these books (as well as numerous nutrition journals) to our sitting.

When NOT to edit yourself.

2010-11-10T06:48:00.004-06:00

So yesterday, when I found out that Marty Gold's show had been pulled from 92.9 KICK FM, I tweeted that I was happy about it, broke the news on my Facebook status message and then I wrote the previous blog post.

I didn't expect to get any feedback, especially from KICK's station manager, Rick Baverstock, but I did. I also heard from other people, who had an opinion on the situation. -- Many people, like me, were not sad to see Gold ejected from the anchor's chair, while many others have taken the news rather hard. There seemed to be very few people who were indifferent to the situation...

Either way, I got a little nervous about my posts when I discovered what a sensitive subject matter this was. It's apparent that Gold is liked, proof can be seen in the comment section of the post below (Of the four comments for yesterday's post, two were a testament to Gold and his show.) That being said, I am personally not a fan of Gold or the Great Canadian Talk Show.

I debated editing myself by taking down my blog post and any comments I made about Gold and his show, but then decided against it. -- I am entitled to my opinion, and it doesn't need to be popular, or shared by others. I do need to stand by it though, if I believe in it.

That being said, I hope that I didn't come across as offensive to Gold, because I don't want to kick him while he is down.

In writing my blog post, I tried to make sure not to offend Gold, or anyone else. My opinion still stands on the issue, though I can see validity in the opinions of the people who would like to see Gold return to KICK.

Either way, I'm fairly certain that I am done speaking about Gold and his termination...

Did Red River College Kill Free Speech?!

2010-11-09T00:46:00.006-06:00

Apparently Red River College killed free speech today; at least that's what now-unemployed talk-radio host Marty Gold and his fans are saying.

In an unexpected turn of events, Gold's soap box -- The Great Canadian Talk Show -- was pulled from the airwaves today. Red River College's radio station, 92.9 KICK FM, will no longer host the afternoon show.

The circumstances of Gold's departure are still unclear, but he and his team have already taken to Facebook and the show's blog to "protest the censorship" that they feel is taking place.

Gold's blog says:

"...two Red River College employees and two commercial radio general managers who are on the executive committee of Kick FM, made a decision without any involvement of anyone else on the Board, excluding student and community representatives from the process.

- They claim the station needs to focus on "student outcomes" and want to exclude all volunteer radio programs (like the recently elevated to CFRW Illegal Curve Hockey show, Beer for Breakfast and Breaking and Entering on Saturdays, and The Winnipeg Free Press’s Stop The Presses) and on the job training. No fewer than 7 students and volunteers trained on TGCTS went on to garner professional jobs as a result of that training in journalism and technical operations. Many others started their own radio programs."

Please go to Gold's blog to read the entire post, in order to get an accurate account of what was said.

I can understand that Gold is upset, but it is important to point out that 92.9 KICK FM is a non-profit teaching facility. Students, like myself, pay good money to learn how to use the radio equipment and gain on-air experience. I don't think anybody can argue that "focusing on student outcomes" isn't a valid reason to cancel Gold's show.

Gold argues that seven people have landed industry jobs by working for the Great Canadian Talk Show. However, the counter to that statement can be that many current students prefer to gain radio experience by having their own radio shows. -- I know I would prefer to have my own radio show than op for Marty...

Either way. I'm glad the board of directors have decided to "focus on student outcomes." Even if it meant that some people are not happy with the decision that was made, I think this entire situation is a damn good indication that my best interests (as a CreComm student) are being served.

Good luck in the future Marty...

Edit your social media.

2010-11-03T07:31:00.003-05:00

As CreComm students, my classmates and I have all been warned to death about the ramifications of not maintaining a professional social media existence. Our Facebook, Twitter, and Blog accounts have become unofficial resumes for potential employers. (I'd dare say a potential employer would probably spend more time looking at my unofficial social media resume than my real one simply because it is far more interesting.)

Needless to say, it's a no-brainer that we all have to be extremely careful about what we post. People have lost jobs before they even got them, they tell us. Just for things they've posted on Facebook or Twitter.

I agree with this a thousand per cent, however, I am curious about how far one is supposed to go in order to edit their profile. Do we edit our friends lists too? Do we edit our likes? Political opinions? Pictures? groups affiliated with? Do we edit what other people post on our walls?

So long Facebook Friend!

I think when it comes to maintaining professional Facebook account, then it is probably a good idea to constantly edit your friends list. I get that we all want to be popular and have hundreds of friends, but the bottom line is that you're accountable to who you know. (The ol' saying: "You are who your friends are" rings true for a lot of potential employers in this case.)

I had to delete one of my ex-boyfriends (the only one I still actually like, ironically) from Facebook because his sense of humour was beyond offensive. His status messages made me uncomfortable, and I think I can take a lot.

Either way, I deleted him because A) I was scared that I would somehow be linked to him and his views, just because we're Facebook friends. B) His status messages were too ugly and negative for me to look at every day.

I like...

So, when you join those Facebook groups or "like" something, you're automatically personifying your account.

"Ahh, Jane likes to snuggle!" or, "Oh look at Rusty, he just joined an I love Justin Bieber fan group."

Ok, so I know that Jane likes to cuddle and Rusty likes the Biebs. Cool.

However, when I go to Wally's profile and notice that he has joined a bunch of marijuana fan pages and "I support marijuana" groups, I am going to draw the conclusion that Wally is a pot-head. (Even if he's a "functional pot-head" or simply an avid supporter of pot-heads)

I'll probably pass him up for that awesome job he applied for just because I'd be scared that he's be a non-functional pot-head, who smokes illegal drugs. (As a business owner, I probably don't care that pot is basically legal in Canada. Illegal is a liability. -- And if I am a pot-head business owner, I'd probably still pass Wall up for the job because unlike me, he is so blatant about his illegal pot smoking. Amateur.)

Click, click, click, flash...

Look, if there are pictures out there of you hammered and being goofy, just do yourself a favour and untag yourself (or delete if they're yours.) -- It may seem harmless because Alcohol is legal, but you wouldn't list your resume hobbies as getting wasted...

Just saying...

Vlogging.

2010-11-01T20:58:00.004-05:00

I tried vlogging, it didn't work.

Oh well, enjoy this funny and non-serious attempt by me, Sandy, Kiran and Yvonne.

We need more sleep.

No Running Water

2010-10-31T07:36:00.003-05:00

Yesterday there was a special in the Winnipeg Free Press about the lack of safe and clean water on remote northern First Nations communities called No Running Water.

The piece, a shared body of work between journalist and editor Helen Fallding, photo journalist Joe Bryska and multi-media editor Tyler Walsh, gives an in depth look into the third world living conditions that many people who live in these communities face.

This piece is shocking, even if you already knew that many people on remote First Nations reserves didn't have access to clean water. -- Fallding, Bryska and Walsh, took a story that many of knew (or heard of) but never bothered to care much about (because it didn't affect us), and served it up in a nice little package for our reading and viewing consumption. They made this issue real for a lot of us.

This story is a perfect example of why I wanted to be a journalist.

How can all these cases be unsolved?

2010-10-26T10:47:00.001-05:00

Crime: When is the best time to tackle it?

2010-10-26T05:56:00.010-05:00

Three people were shot in a seemingly random attack in Winnipeg's North End this weekend. The alleged gunman, described by some witnesses as methodical, was on foot or bike and shot his victims in three separate areas of the North End in a half hour time period. Of the three who were shot, two died of their injuries, while the third is still in hospital.

A horrific crime, especially considering that it appears to be random at this time. -- This kind of crime begs the question: Is Winnipeg getting more violent? And if so, what can be done to fix this problem?!

With the Civic Election less than 24-hours away, crime in Winnipeg is a hot topic.

I know for certain that mayoral candidate, Sam Katz, has already promised 58 new police officers on the streets if reelected. Good, but will 58 more police officers really fix this type of problem? Certainly, a beefed up police presence in crime riddled areas would be good, but will it do much of anything to actually solve the problem?

I think it will be great to have more officers, but I doubt it will do much in the way of cleaning up the streets.

Judy Wacylycia-Leis has vowed to "get to the root cause of crime" if elected, by offering up funding, programs and jobs for at risk people (including those in gangs.) -- This is something that Judy has been scoffed at for, because people don't seem to like the idea of investing time and money into the likes of gang members. I can understand that mentality, but I don't think that I agree with it.

Investing "in the root cause" of crime seems like a logical concept. -- What makes a person, like the anonymous gunman in the North End this weekend, into a killer, or a criminal, or a thief? Is there something that could have been done earlier in this person's life to prevent this type of behaviour?

Before we scoff at the notion of investing "in the root cause," perhaps we should see it it works first.

Perhaps we (as a city) should take a step back and look at why people do things (like commit crimes and murders), and try to fix it at the root, rather than letting it grow and fester.

I don't know.

This is a hot topic, and although I agree with Wacylycia-Leis about targeting the root cause of the problem, I still believe that people who commit crimes should serve due justice for them.

Ah well, tomorrow I guess we'll see what the rest of Winnipeg thinks about the issues...

2010-10-22T21:02:00.005-05:00

It hits you like a tonne of bricks, that suffocating feeling; you can't breathe. Your face begins to burn, triggering the rest of your body temperature to rise. Your head begins to ache and your heart pounds heavily. You feel as though you are going to be sick.

What just happened? -- Life seems to have slowed to a frame-by-frame picture. Suffering in slow motion.

The room is so quiet that you could hear a pin drop. Only the sound sound of a ticking clock and a settling house comfort you.

You try to catch your breath, but you can't. You lean up against a wall, put your burning face into your hands, and you cry. Helpless and vulnerable.

Those words, those awful words, have changed your entire life. Nothing even looks the same as it did a moment ago. Everything just got a little darker. A little scarier. A little more unfair.

Your heart aches. This is what love feels like.

You are trapped in the moment. The only thing you keep thinking of is that you wish there was more time. The life that you've been fine with living up until a few minutes ago, is now a race. You resent it. You need more time for the important things. More time for the things you take for granted. You just need more time.

Editing a monster

2010-10-20T08:26:00.011-05:00

The story of Colonel Russell Williams has exploded in the media: Sexual predator who photographed and filmed himself raping and killing two women. A guy who broke into a number of houses (many houses a number of times as well) stealing panties, bras and other women's and girls lingerie and clothing, and taking pictures of himself (often masturbating) while wearing the items.

Yes, the story almost seems like something out of a movie, but it's not. It's real life.

This week, images of shamed former colonel wearing women's under garments have been front page news on a national level. Both Winnipeg dailies have used these images of Williams, posing in the stolen lingerie, on their covers. The pictures of the stern-faced colonel standing in front of the camera, wearing both panties and bra seem bizarre. He doesn't seem to be posing, and his expression is still frigid and cold, like an army colonel would be while he is standing at attention.

The pictures certainly add to the story.

However, I wonder what the editors of both Winnipeg dailies, as well as the other papers who published these pictures were thinking?-- Did they question whether they should have published these pictures? Did they think they landed on a gold mine? (Hey, it's not every day you get a picture of a once well respected army colonel turned killer, wearing women's stolen lingerie...) Did they wonder if these pictures, mixed with their headlines would have negative connotations towards other people, not involved in this case?!

I raise the last point because, although it is evident Russell Williams in a pervert based on the the facts that are coming out about him, there is a thin line of behaviour that he may share with many non-perverted people, and that is wearing women's underwear. -- A man wearing women's underwear might seem strange to a lot of us, but there are a lot of well to do cross dressers out there, who are not perverts, that enjoy wearing women's underwear (among other things.)

Don't get me wrong; I think that Williams is a pervert for stealing underwear (especially from young girls) and then wearing it. However, that's a whole different ball game.

I just wonder if the editors of the newspapers that are running these stories have considered the fine line of telling the story (in both words and pictures) and making sure that they don't offend or pervert the cross dressing community while they do it.

Thoughts?!

Pictures: Courtesy of the Associated Press

99 per cent of a young killer

2010-10-19T05:04:00.003-05:00

About a million years ago, when I was in grade eight, a kid from my area was fatally stabbed by another teenager, while he was hanging out with a large group of friends one summer night. -- I have to point out that I didn't know the victim or the killer, but the impact of this incident was a profound one on my small circle of junior high friends. (Especially the ones that were there, the night the victim was killed. Horror stories of 13 and 14-year-olds cradling the dying boy in their arms, while waiting for paramedics to arrive haunted many of us for years.)

The story goes like this...

One summer night, a bunch of kids from Grant Park and River Heights Jr. High schools planned to have a bush party (probably at Omands Creek, because that's where all the bush parties happened for the Grant Park and River Heights kids.)

The group of kids met around Grant Park School that night, and sometime (while the lot of them were together) some kind of altercation ensued between a few of them and two other boys from a different area, who were not a part of the Grant Park/River Heights group.

(Yes, I understand that my last paragraph was a vague run-on sentence, but my brain has a hard time articulating what really happened back then because all I remember is thinking that the boy who was killed had been an innocent victim of the other boy; a cold-blooded killer. It was extremely emotional experience to all of us back then. I have no idea what really transpired...)

Anyway, what came next was beyond tragic for everybody involved; apparently, after the altercation, the group of Grant Park/River Heights kids started following the two boys (for reasons I am not sure of.) They followed them through Grant Park Mall, through Woolco, and eventually down Mulvey St., where the two boys stopped and a fight was about to take place.

Before the fight happened though, one of the boys pulled out a knife and stabbed one of the Grant Park/River Heights kids in the chest. The bleeding kid fell to the ground and the two boys ran away. Laying in the arms of his friends and wrapped in a blood-soaked jacked, the young teenaged boy bled to death, right there on Mulvey St.

It was tragic.

In the following days after the boy was killed, I remember the news coverage being pretty extensive: A young teenage boy was stabbed to death in the south end of the city. That wasn't normal. Furthermore, the teenaged killer apparently stole the murder weapon from a Woolco store, right before the incident happened on Mulvey St.

It was sensational, the press couldn't write about this tragedy fast enough...

And then a few days after the murder, after the dead boy had been buried and an emotional retaliation had been promised by friends of the slain boy, The Winnipeg Sun posted a picture of the teenage killer on the cover of the paper with little more than a tiny black bar covering his eyes, to supposedly shield his identity.

It was unusually candid, and outraged all parties involved.

Now, like I've already pointed out, I can't articulate this story very well, given that I was a young and extremely biased teenager when it happened. (I automatically assumed that the murder was done in cold blood. I never even gave a second thought to the possibility that the young killer was also probably extremely frightened by the fact that he was out-numbered by the group of kids that were following him. -- I am not trying to justify the murder, because it's a shame, but I am just saying that in my young eyes, the killer was the antagonist in this situation...)

Either way, the picture of the young killer caught a lot of backlash, because the Sun was accused of going too far in publishing 99 per cent of an image of the young killer.

I've tried to Google the story, to no avail. Perhaps I still have old clippings of this murder in a shoe box somewhere...Either way, it was a strange experience all around, and it's bizarre to look back all these years later with my journalist hat on.

Marker Social

2010-10-16T22:28:00.002-05:00

So the CreComm Marker Social was pretty awesome: A room full of white t-shirt wearing "happy" students equipped with markers. Fantastic idea! (As you might be able to tell from this photo, I am sporting a fake Cindy Crawford beauty mole.)

Needless to say, I had a blast.

Missing Manitoba Women: Bernie Smith speaks out

2010-10-14T08:36:00.000-05:00

Bernie Smith, sister of missing Manitoba woman, Claudette Osborne-Tyo, speaks out at a vigil on October 6, 2010.

So there's no secret...

2010-10-13T06:33:00.003-05:00

One of the most profound things that I have learned in CreComm thus far is that editing is a skill that anyone can be good at. No, seriously.

As it turns out, my poor editing skills are a result of poor time management and laziness. (Huh, who knew?!)

Good editing, whether it's print, video, audio, or any other form, is a time commitment. (Going over the piece of work a number of times with a metaphoric fine-toothed comb.) Yes, it may take longer to produce your work, but the quality results will be evident.

This is something that I need to work on.

Snapshot Social Media

2010-10-12T00:40:00.009-05:00

Well, I may have gone and done it this time! -- Last week, while observing a mayoral debate that was being broadcast live on Shaw TV, I snapped a picture of a camera man who was talking on his phone during the debate and I posted it on Twitter.

I think my exact tweet was: "GET OFF THE PHONE!!!" (Yes, in all caps with a ton of exclamation marks. What?! I was annoyed.)

Anyway, the next day I log onto Twitter and find out that the chatty camera man had been fired, and the speculation was that it was because of my picture!

I felt terrible.

When I posted the picture of the camera man on his phone, I certainly didn't think it would result in him being fired! I figured that since he was so brazen about talking on his phone while shooting the debate, that it wasn't even a big deal. (Well, I only thought that for a second, before another camera man had to tell him to stop.)

Anyway, the long and short of it all is this: Social media is a very powerful tool, and you have to be so careful about what you post. (And to take it a step further, as a professional, you have to be careful about what you do. Especially in the public eye.)

I later heard that I wasn't the reason that the camera guy got fired. (To be honest, I am not even sure if this guy even got fired!) Regardless, the whole situation made me realize how careful we all have to be when it comes to using social media.

CJOB's Mayoral Debate at Red River College: Wednesday, October 6, 2010

2010-10-06T23:09:00.003-05:00

I asked mayoral candidates Sam Katz and Judy Wasylycia-Leis to discuss what they would do, if elected, about the issue of missing and murdered women in Manitoba.

Reposted from: Missing Manitoba Women

Filmed by Jeremie Wookey

Sometimes, even when you think you're prepared, you're just not.

2010-10-04T23:46:00.012-05:00

So I went to a vigil at the Legislature tonight, in honour of Manitoba's missing and murdered women.

Equipped with an ENG camera, a tripod, audio equipment, an SLR camera, a notepad and my purse, I was ready to cover this vigil for my IPP Blog, Missing Manitoba Women. Since I had been to a number of these vigils before, I assumed that today's homage would be like any other.

I was wrong.

You see, I'd never attended one of these vigils as a journalist before. Nope. I've always gone as an "advocate" or a "supporter" of the cause.

Even with all of my high tech camera equipment, there were a number of things that I failed to capture:

I failed at my attempt to capture the essence of this event-- where mothers of lost daughters sobbed and comforted one another, and the smell of sweet grass and tobacco wafted through the air.

I failed to capture the tears from friends and family who can't seem to move on from the day their sister/daughter/mother/friend, vanished, and the bonds that have formed out of this tremendous pool of loss.

I failed to capture the utterly unfair reality of partly-orphaned children obliviously running around at an event that has become a normal part of their young life.

At this vigil, with my journalist hat on, I failed at really capturing the emotion of the event. It wasn't until I was faced with the decision to film people in their most vulnerable moments, or turn the camera away, that I realized how scary and intrusive this job can be.

I turned the camera away.

Though, I understand that public vigils are an invitation to the media to film and help these families raise awareness for a cause, it is still hard to cover these kinds of events without feeling like you are exploiting people. Especially when you see people you hardly know, or don't know at all, at their weakest.

Tonight was a real eye opener for me.

Journalistic style.

2010-09-29T12:33:00.002-05:00

FRIDAY, APRIL 10, 2009
The "journalism dream"...
I've decided to start another blog in the hopes of bettering my writing skills. I've recently applied for the creative communications joint program at Red River College and the University of Winnipeg, in the hopes of obtaining my degree in journalism. Over the course of the past two years I have been fortunate enough that have my tiny little world open up, as I have been exposed to the wonderful world of formalized education.

I love learning, and being aware of the world around me. I love the psychology of people, and dynamics of their actions, reactions and the reasoning behind how we all see and act within this world.

I am not going to limit myself to writing solely about politics however. I am also going to write as a columnist would, and cover the parts of life (like the NKOTB concert) that are interesting and fun.

My goal for this blog is simple; I just want to write, and I want to be good at it.

Oh, and on a side note; the night before my cre-com interview I was reading "The last Lecture" By Randy Pausch. Since I don't have a lot of time to read anything other than my academic books/text books, it was strange that I would decide (right in the middle of exam time) to read this book before bed...

But alas, it was exactly what I needed before facing the panel of academics who will ultimately decide my fate...

Chapter 11, pages 51 & 52...

Pausch is talking about being rejected as an Imagineer at Disneyland, even after obtaining a PhD from Carnegie Mellon, and his determination in realizing his childhood dream;

"The brick walls are there for a reason. They're not there to keep us out. The brick walls are there to give us a chance to show how badly we want something."

Brilliant words from a brave man.

Last year, before being accepted into CreComm, I started a blog. I wanted to better my skills, so that I would be more prepared to write "journalistically."

I only got a couple of posts in, when I switched blogs (to the one I have now) because I wasn't feeling it...I missed my old, "unique" style of writing, and started to wonder if "Journalistic writing" had just one style.

Flash forward to now, my second year of CreComm, and I am still more confused than ever. I'm not a great hard news writer, but I have come to think that there is more to "journalistic writing" than hard news.

Thoughts?

She has two cats...And she wants to own an island.

2010-09-27T19:02:00.004-05:00

Meet today's SUNshine girl (from the Winnipeg Sun.) She wants to own an island.

Now, perhaps I am wrong in assuming that everyone in the Winnipeg Sun newsroom had a good chuckle at the wording of this little gem that is found on the third page of the paper. I know that I had a good laugh when I saw it! (It's hilarious, it made me laugh out loud while I was by myself on the bus.)

I am assuming that the model did indeed say that she wanted to own an island. However I can't imagine her saying that she had two cats and wants to own an island in the same breath, as it is written in the paper.

"I have two cats and I want to own an island."

What?! Noway.

Hahaha.

Good job on being funny Winnipeg Sun!

Speaking political language...

2010-09-22T06:23:00.010-05:00

Being journalism students, my classmates and I have the daunting task of covering the upcoming civic election for a news outlet in Manitoba. (Sorry, political buffs, but I can say with certainty that this assignment really is daunting!) We have to speak to residents in the ward we've been assigned, as well as the candidates who have thrown their name in the hat to run for city councillor or mayor.

That doesn't sound so bad, right?!

Well, here's the thing: speaking about politics is like speaking a foreign language to many people, especially civic politics. Seriously. When the term politics comes up in conversation, I would venture to say that many people -- from uneducated to extremely educated -- shutter at the word. It's like the cancer of the english language.

This is not because there is a lack of political-filled content in the newspaper, and on the TV and radio. Nor, is this because candidates haven't put themselves 'out there,' (because, for the most part, they have.) This is because formal politics are hard to understand.

The newspaper, for example; it's written at a grade six reading level. Well, that's fine and dandy, but when you write about something like politics -- a subject that makes use of big words, terms and phrases that are often difficult to understand the meaning of -- the "easy to read" news story becomes rather difficult.

Take, for example, this paragraph in today's Winnipeg Free Press:

There are a total of 51 people running for 15 council ward seats, plus four candidates for mayor. None of council’s 12 incumbents – Katz and 11 councillors — will run unopposed. That means there will be no acclamations in Winnipeg for two straight elections. There were no acclamations in 2006, either.

Sure, this starts off relatively easy to understand:

There are a total of 51 people running for 15 council ward seats, plus four candidates for mayor.

"Yeah, yeah; there are 51 people running in the election in 15 wards of the city...I get it."

But then, some of the words in this story (perhaps easy for some people to understand, especially if they follow civic politics...) get a little touchy:

None of council’s 12 incumbents – Katz and 11 councillors — will run unopposed. That means there will be no acclamations in Winnipeg for two straight elections.

"What?! No really; what?!" (This, my friends, is what I like to call that "Charlie Brown teacher moment," when everything you see, hear, or read becomes the 'Wah-wah-wah-wah' voice of Charlie Brown's teacher.)

I don't consider myself stupid, and I even took a few politics classes in university, but after a few years of not really following civic politics, I'm a little confused by this. (Like any language, if you don't use it, it tends to wear off!)

It's really a shame, because you can't blame people -- voters -- for not caring about civic politics, if they don't fully understand. And you certainly can't blame me (and my journalism classmates) for thinking that covering the election is daunting.

Sometimes you just get lucky.

2010-09-20T00:11:00.006-05:00

The other day in broadcast journalism class we were assigned the task of shooting video and writing a voice over for a thirty second clip (of a news item) of our choice.

With both our partners and our job positions assigned to us by our instructors, Steve Vogelsang and Forde Oliver, we were sent out into Winnipeg to capture a story.

I was partnered with Sean Angus and was assigned the role of shooter/editor, while Angus was assigned the job of reporter.

Since Angus was the reporter, the story idea was up to him. When I asked him what story he wanted to do, he suggested that we cover the Bodies Exhibit, which was slated the open (to a mixed reaction of controversy and excitement) the following day.

"Ok," I said, secretly doubting his idea. -- Though the story seemed like a good one, I was skeptical that I could deliver on good video, since we didn't have access into the actual building.

When our time to shoot rolled around, Angus and I signed out a camera and a tripod and made our way to Portage Avenue and Donald Street, the site of the exhibit. Lugging the heavy equipment and still doubting my partner's story choice, I drilled Angus on the details of his story while trying to come up with shot ideas in my head.

"Ok, we can get a ground shot of people walking, and a couple shots of the building..." I thought. "We can get a shot, or two, of the Donald Street sign too."

To me, the story didn't look hopeful, since we didn't have access to film the actual bodies in the exhibit. I was frustrated with the idea of filling thirty seconds of video (which is a lot more than you'd ever think) with a bunch of mediocre shots that had nothing to do with the actual story or exhibit.

But, this was his story, and I didn't want to complain, or bully him out of it.

We began filming outside the MTS Exhibition Centre; shots of the building, shots of the street sign, more shots of the building...We joked about pretending the be the real media, and asking for a tour, when we noticed a group of people outside the door to the MTS Exhibition Centre, waving us over.

When we made our way to the door, the people told us that they would call the media coordinator for us. We were stunned. (Did they think we were real media? Had God somehow answered our prayers?! Was this a practical joke?!)

When the media coordinator came out (A woman named Christina I think...I can't remember her last name though!) she asked who were we with. Instantly, Angus and I both confessed that we were "only students" in the CreComm program.

Waiting to be expelled from what we now realized was the media showing of the exhibit, Christina offered us press kits and told us that she too had recently graduated from CreComm. (Score!)

Within minutes, thanks in part to a stroke of luck and the CreComm mafia, Angus and I were up in the exhibit with the rest of the Winnipeg media, getting some neat shots of the actual bodies in the exhibit.

We haven't yet been graded on our assignment, but I am very pleased with the shots that we got. (Especially since I am not very good with the ENG cameras.)

Now, there's no real moral to this story...Perhaps, if any, I guess it would be: It's good not to bully your partner? Or, sometimes you just get lucky. Or maybe the moral would be: Sometimes, as a journalist/reporter, you just need to put yourself out there (for the story you want) and see how far your willingness (and luck) will take you before you decide you can't do it.

Who knows...

Making a horrific story readable...

2010-09-15T11:31:00.004-05:00

Most Manitoba people know the story of five-year-old Phoenix Sinclair; the little girl who was tortured and eventually murdered by her mom and step-father. (For those of you who have not heard this story, it is an extremely sand and tragic one that will literally hurt your heart.)

The reporters that were assigned to this story must have been emotionally wiped, after hearing the horrendous details of Phoenix's short life throughout the widely publicized trial. -- I can't imagine having to sit through days and days of testimony describing the torture and killing of an innocent five-year-old.

I just can't.

Often, we as the the consumers of media fail to realize how taxing aspects of a reporters job are. We'll nit-pick over details of a story, or look for spelling mistakes and errors, but usually fail to realize the more important aspects of the job like story delivery in a way that is detailed yet toned down enough to read over breakfast in the morning.

Kudos to good reporters out there.

Is it news?

2010-09-11T12:34:00.007-05:00

The other day, the Winnipeg Sun had a story about a woman who had an affair with a former WWE wrestler. (Not news?! Perhaps not "hard news," however in our TMZ-infused society stuff like this can now been deemed as front-page worthy, if it's dirty enough...)

Anyway, the reason this story (of an affair) is so captivating is because it is probably one of the trashiest things I have bore witness to in years. -- The mistress at the centre of the story is a local woman who took the meaning of being vendictive to a whole new level; after outting her lover to his wife on Facebook, the woman then allegedly stalked the couple (by phoning, emailing and texting them at their Florida home) and then posted angry telephone conversations (between herself and her former wrestler lover) on YouTube. She also made a series of videos, telling the story of how she met said-wrestler, complete with the use of hand-puppets, detailing aspects of their "relationship."

A real class act.

In the recorded conversations, which play to a picture slide show of the couple in "happier times," the woman shifts from playing dumb (about posting the pictures on Facebook for the wife to see, and "destroying" his marriage) to warning the guy "not to be on her bad side."

For lack of a better term, this entire story is completely fucked up. In fact, it's gruesome enough to be a well-scripted "reality TV show," with the attention-starved villianess in the starring role. The only difference though, is that usually in reality TV shows, there is some kind of funny, amusing or redeeming quality of the villian. In this situation, the local mistress/attention-starved villianess doesn't appear to have any redeeming qualities. None that she's shown yet anyway.

Photo: www.thisnext.com

Stop killing the language.

2010-09-08T07:08:00.008-05:00

You know what drives me bonkers? When people abbreviate words -- especially simple ones -- when they write, type or text.

Example:

Wht R U doin 2day? (Translation: What are you doing today?)

Arrrgh. This blatant disregard of the English language really, really, REALLY annoys me; it literally makes me want to scratch my own eyes out with a corner of the worlds biggest dictionary, because it just seems so wrong.

However I am a hypocrite because in some cases I do this too. (Ugh, I can't help it, this new variation of the English language is bigger than me.) I mean, I try my hardest not to butcher the language; I rarely ever use a mere letter instead of an actual word nor do I replace words with numbers. I try to use all vowels, even incorporating the extra 'u' for the Canadian spellings of words like colour and favourite...but alas, when I am in a pinch, or using my Twitter account, sometimes I can't help but shorten my words.

Let's make a stand and make a commitment to stop killing the English language. Seriously. Let's all start using vowels and real words again...

FYI...

2010-09-06T17:42:00.002-05:00

After an enlightening conversation with a friend of mine, I have learned that some of the things I post on the internet may be misconstrued by some of you who regularly read my stuff. Therefore, I've decided to write a little blog post -- A reference of sorts -- outlining, and explaining, the content I post on the internet.

So here goes...

Pretty much every single thing that I post, or have previously posted on the internet is sarcastic and not serious.

Yep.

What is journalism...

2010-09-05T12:17:00.006-05:00

When I entered into CreComm, my ambition was to be a "print journalist." (Yeah, I even put that term on the portfolio/application that I submitted. -- when I was asked Journalism instructor, Duncan McMonagle, to explain what I meant by "print journalist" during my entrance interview, I said I wanted to write for a newspaper. Only a newspaper.

Uhhh...

Flash forward to a year (and a bit) later, a couple of industry internships under my belt, and some intense journalism classes endured at Red River College, and I am not sure that I even want to embark on a career in the "print journalism" industry. (Number one reason is probably because there is actually no such thing as a "print journalism industry." But fundamentals aside, I have also come to realize that I don't think I want to be just a 'regular journalist' either. -- A columnist, maybe...)

You see, I have come to realize that when I dreamed of being a journalist I actually had no stinkin' idea what this job entailed. In fact, it wasn't until I was well into my first year of CreComm that I realized how different this job was from the job I made up in my head.

Truth be told, I assumed that it was what I wanted to do because I liked writing and watching the news. I was wrong. (Journalism -- even non-existant "print journalism" has very little to do with creative writing...)

This leads me to the questions: What is journalism:

Well, friends, the profession of journalism is one that sees a group of people -- reporters, editors, photographers, etc. -- come up with news stories, write the news stories, and package it all up in a neat little parcel (in the form of a newspaper, TV, radio, blog, etc...) And present it to the public for consumption.

(Note: Before I continue, I should clarify that when I say that: "Come up with news stories" I mean that these news outlets have means to information that regular joe's like you and I don't. -- They have access to police scanners, and news/press releases. They are invited to press conferences and have credibility when speaking to the public... "Hi, I'm Shelley Cook, a reporter with the Winnipeg Free Press..." That never got old when I used to say that!!)

Some people have a knack for journalism; the to-the-point writing style with little to no inputed opinion about the story; the tight deadlines; the uncertainty about what the day will bring. I would almost venture to say that journalism is a lifestyle for the reporters, editors and other media folks, who are impassioned about their careers and the "news" that goes on around them.

This, however, is not me.

I love to write, share my opinion and I really love to use adjectives. (This, my friends, is not journalism. Or, so I have been told.)

Cartoon: Courtesy of Natalie Dee (www.nataliedee.com)

My pants shrunk...

2010-09-04T13:22:00.001-05:00

Okay, maybe my pants didn't shrink...Maybe my ass just grew.

Ugh.

Why, oh why do I do this to myself...

2010-08-26T15:14:00.008-05:00

Just an FYI, I am never dating, or getting married to anyone unless I meet them in the most unrealistically whimsical way possible.

Guess I'm going to be alone, watching old Judy Garland movies and eating sweets for the rest of my life...

Oh wait, I guess I can always invest in a couple of feline friends! -- There is a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow!

To end, here is my new favourite song...I wonder if that guy's single!

For real though, I love this video...Chubby girls in pretty/sexy outfits dancing in sync and being called beautiful?! Sign me up! (Perhaps that's my true calling in life...)

Once, when I was walking down Spence St (on my way to university) some guy stopped me on the street and he said: "Big girl, you are beautiful!"

True story.

I was more offended than anything (Seriously, did you have to use the word big?! No, really?! Did you...) Ah well, this song more than makes up for it.

A message to the health nuts on behalf of the chubbos.

2010-08-25T10:09:00.005-05:00

As we all already know, I am a bitter woman. (I proudly admit that fact about myself approximately 87 times a day.) However, unfounded bitterness aside, there is something of importance that I feel I need to address on behalf of myself and my chubby and/or unhealthy friends…

We don’t want to hear about how much damn fat and/ or sodium is in our food!!

Now I agree that we should all be watching what we eat, especially with the amount of crap (including sodium) that goes into food. However, there is nothing more annoying then someone who insists on critiquing your lunch (and you) while you are eating it.

Ugh.

Now don’t get me wrong, I have nothing but the utmost respect for a person that has chosen to dedicate their life to maintaining a healthy diet. (No really, kudos to you!) But lord help us all if that person decides to share their lifestyle and opinions in times and situations where they are not wanted.

Case in point:

Me: Eating my frozen dinner and secretly feeling bad about myself.

Healthy McJoe: Eating her low-sodium, low-fat, healthy food.

Me: “Awe crap…”

Heathy McJoe: “Whatcha got there?! – Is that one of those microwave dinners?”

Me: “Yes.”

Healthy McJoe: “Awe man, do you know how much sodium is in there?! That’s like a week’s worth of salt!! Those things are so bad for you!”

Me: Feeling awkward and like I want to sink into my seat and die.

Heathy McJoe: “You should just make your own food…”

Me: *in my head* “Well, Healthy McJoe, I’m poor and can’t afford more than this crappy frozen dinner that doesn’t even taste good. You think I wanna be eating this crap?! No, I don't. It's gross and I'm pretty sure that I can feel my pants getting tighter and my arteries closing up as we speak!

Oh, and another thing, why do you even sit with me at lunch?! I don’t want to spend my lunch hour listening to you tell me how much better you and your damn healthy food options are than me. Seriously!! Go away.”

“Uh huh…”

Healthy McJoe: Oblivious.

Seriously, that account is loosely based on actual events!

Nobody likes the person who overkills the whole health thing. I mean, yes, I speak for me and all my chubbos when I say that we’re all happy as shit for you and your healthy life, but why do you insist on making the rest of us feel bad about our poor diet choices? It’ll -- a healthy lifestyle -- happen for us too one day if we want it to, but not on your incessant critiquing!

Leave us alone, you are not the health police!

So here it is my plea, on behalf of the chubby and unhealthy community...

Healthy friends,

Please stop telling us how bad our food is for us. Please don’t (openly) judge us, or give us “helpful” suggestions about how to eat. – If we want your opinion about food and diet, we will certainly ask for it!

We respect you healthy friends, but most of us already feel bad enough about ourselves, we don’t need your help making us feel worse.

Let’s talk about sports, or TV and movies, or gossip…Let’s just talk about something other than how bad my food choices are and how bad my lifestyle is. And let's also avoid discussing your diet and workout routine. Please!

Thank you.

I'm still rambling about smoking. #Addict.

2010-08-24T23:19:00.008-05:00

So now that I don't smoke, I don't feel like I really have anything insightful to say. (Well, that's my thought process anyway...Cigarettes made me creative. Sigh.)

It's been just over two weeks since I kicked the habit, and let me tell you, I am one agitated, hungry, and just an overall miserable person to be around. (If you haven't noticed it then you are probably blind because I give death glares to everyone and anyone I cross paths with...But that's just who I am now.) In fact, quitting smoking may have prolonged my life, but I feel sorry for all of you suckers who now have to live with the new crabby me for longer. -- You all just shoulda accepted my smoking habit (and I'm going to go as far as to say that you probably should have helped me pay for it) cause we're all in this for the long haul now...

Hooray.

But really, it's not even that bad. True to Shelley form, I am being overly dramatic about this entire situation. -- I mean, sure I still have cravings for cigarettes that I try to ignore by stuffing my face with food. And, yes I certainly have a lot less patience than I used to, but ladies and gentlemen, I am now a non-smoker. It's official.

Although, have no fear my smoking buddies, I have not yet gotten to that point -- That self rightous point where most people who quit smoking get to -- where I think that all smokers are the devil reincarnate. Nope. I still like you all. In fact, I want you all to know that I still think you look cool smoking. (I'm not even just saying that either. I'm old school, I have that 1994 mentality when it comes to smoking. It's cool. It's James Dean Cool. No, wait; it's Wynona Rider in Reality Bites cool.)

Ah well, my dad says that I'm home free in six-weeks. (He better be right, because more than actually craving a cigarette these days, I am just craving being a smoker. It's weird...)

I've made it past two weeks. I'm fatter and I hav a shorter fuse, but at least I'm still trying I guess...

I'm an addict.

I'm on a float!

2010-08-22T10:40:00.001-05:00

I've been in two parades this summer, representing MLC. (And Pretending to represent myself instead...I like pretending that the parades are in honour of me!!)

I'm OK!

2010-08-16T13:14:00.001-05:00

Good news everyone: I think I'm OK now.

It's true that I’ve been a chaotic mess for the last week, due in large part to my lack of a cigarette. Although after a thorough self-assessment (which involved me looking into a mirror this morning and telling myself how awesome I am, followed by a food reward of last night’s left-over pizza…) I think it’s safe to say that I am going to be OK!

Yep.

I am A-OK! -- In fact, I am so OK, that I have convinced myself that I am now officially a believable non-smoker who is OK with not smoking! (Ladies and gentlemen, I don’t stink anymore! -- I bet if you kissed me I wouldn’t even taste like a dirty ol’ ashtray anymore either! – Woohoo! Who wants to make out!? No seriously, let’s try…Someone make out with me…Please?!)

Haha…Just kidding. Kind of.

But since we’re on the subject of making out, I will say that (when the time is right) I am excited about the notion of checking off the non-smoking box on all of the online dating sites I intend to join! (I also intend to lose a little weight and post pictures of myself in booty shorts, nipple tassels, and anything that is completely inappropriate and suggestive enough to get men to notice me…Desperate times call for desperate measures! -- The clock is ticking; I’m quickly becoming an old lady!! But that’s an entirely different blog post!)

Oh well, I just wanted to post this little note to tell you all that I am OK today!

Hooray!!

Keep Going!

2010-08-15T12:48:00.006-05:00

So I popped onto Facebook (while waiting for my ride out to Ashern, MB) and low and behold I found a friend's status message that took me by complete surprise and literally made me want to cry!

It said:

"Tomorrow is my quit date........(smoking)........ reading Shelley Cook's blog has made me see that if she can do it.....then so can I !!!!!!!!!!!"

Thanks friend (who I'm not naming, in case you don't want me to!) You've really made my day, and I am excited that you are going to quit smoking with me! (Not only because misery loves company...HAHA, just kidding. But, because we're going to kick this habit and not be slaves to it anymore!)

Good luck! (And thank you for inspiring me to keep going!!)

Time to snap out of it...

2010-08-15T00:58:00.004-05:00

After watching Diane Sawyer's April, 2008 interview with Dr. Randy Pausch, author of the best selling book The Last Lecture, I realize that I need to snap out of my self-pitying funk.

So I quit smoking. -- A big accomplishment with huge mood-altering consequences, yes. But, quitting smoking is not the end of the world (as I have alluded to on my blog!) In fact it just dawned on me that even though I have stopped the deadly habit, it is still stealing pieces of my life because I am so consumed by not doing it!

The thing that motivated me to watch Pausch's interview (again) tonight, was an online conversation that I had with Matt Bushby, spouse of missing Manitoba woman, Claudette Osborne. Matt, whom I became friends with because of my IPP (Independent Professional Project), is one of the most positive people I've ever met. Throughout his ordeal, of losing his 'soul mate,' and raising his children without their mother, Matt has shown a great deal of positivity and strength.

(Which is why I decided to google Pausch; because Matt Bushby's attitude reminded me of Randy Pausch's.)

Tonight, during my online chat with Matt, he encouraged me to continue on with my battle to butt out. He reminded me that self-pity can be very self absorbing, and that I should want to quit more than anything, based on how strong my desire to continue to smoke is.

I was inspired.

As Matt and I chatted, he told me about the new challenge that Claudette's family is doing in honour of her. (Her mother and other family members are walking to Winnipeg from Norway House. -- That's almost 800 km -- To raise awareness about her and about the No Stone Unturned concert that is taking place at the Forks this Friday.)

Matt told me about how proud he was of Claudette's family, for taking this journey, and said that he will take part in the last leg of the walk from Ashern to Winnipeg.

Throughout our conversation, Matt maintained a positive attitude, articulating in a way that seemed unfathomable to me (based on what he and his family have been through...)

And then he said something that was so profound to me; after I told him that I liked his attitude and his take on life (especially since his life has been extremely difficult since Claudette went missing.) He said:

"I will never, I think, not feel pain and frustration on how the last few years (of my life) have gone, but I won't let it ruin me either."

Wow.

After he said that I felt like a big baby! -- Here I am feeling utterly and completely sorry for myself because I can't smoke, and Matt was comforting me! He's found a sort of peace with his life-situation that is a bazillion times more upsetting than mine. (I lost my cigarettes and he lost his wife! There isn't even a comparison there...)

Today, I am going to make a conscious effort to stop complaining about my life and about quitting smoking. It's time for me to snap out of it.

Day Six: I feel as sad as an emo kid who lost his eye liner...

2010-08-14T22:34:00.003-05:00

Here we are, day six of my and and (supposed) approved non-smoking lifestyle.

Wow, I feel like crap. -- As the title says, I feel like an emo kid who lost his eye liner. I've got a bad case of the sads.

A couple people who have quit smoking told me that I am already at the halfway point. (Hence, another week of feeling like I want to scratch my eyes out before I start to feel better...Hooray!)

Ugh.

I've decided that after tomorrow, I will stop blogging about my absolute hell (of quitting smoking.) I can only imagine that my blog is a bummer to read, and if any of you are still reading through my agony, I salute you. You're all troopers!

I don't feel like blogging right now. I'm going to take a walk or something.

Day Five: Thank the Lord you are almost over...

2010-08-13T22:38:00.002-05:00

Action shot of me being miserable.

I am going to go to bed in a few minutes. It's day five of my non-smoking lifestyle and I feel like a soulless shell of my former self.

I know this feeling will pass, but right now I am throwing myself a pity party while trying to coast through the withdrawal symptoms before I call it a night. (I still can't shake the nauseous feeling that I've developed since being a non-smoker, but it is getting better...)

I am getting better, but this habit is one that seems almost invincible. -- I still reach for my cigarettes numerous times a day, only to remember (with complete and utter disappointment) that they are no longer a part of my life.

They (experts? non-smokers? anonymous people on the internet?) say that quitting nicotine is like quitting heroin.

I believe it.

I have never felt so desperate and pathetic as I do these days; the logical side of me thinks "Dude, it's only a fucking cigarette, stop being such a baby!" Yet, when the craving takes over, I am a complete and utter fiend. Many times today I would have smoked if I was given the opportunity.

Yep.

Five days invested, and I would have traded it all in for a puff of a cigarette.

I'm miserable.

I hope tomorrow is better...

Days three and four: The ebbs and flows of kicking butt...

2010-08-12T16:05:00.004-05:00

Well folks, I am on day four of my quitting smoking journey.

It sucks. -- I mean, don't get me wrong, I feel accomplished for having enough will power to endure the sharp and painful withdrawal symptoms that seem to unexpectedly pop up. However, I would be lying if I said that these last four days weren't some of the hardest days I can ever remember...

The physical and psychological toll that quitting smoking has left on my body and mind are taxing; I am exhausted, I have waves of nausea (where I feel like I am going to vomit at any second) followed by an almost uncontrollable urge to eat anything and everything in sight. I'm irritable and frustrated. I grit my teeth and pop my gum, taking deep breaths while I try to divert my attention to anything that is not (or cannot be linked to) smoking. (Oddly enough, I have discovered, in this process, that I have the sheer, raw talent of relating everything to cigarettes. Who knew I was so creative and gifted?!)

This is really hard.

I read on a website (I can't remember which one) that less than 10 per cent of the smoking population actually succeed at quitting. I believe it. (I mean, in these four days alone I have rationalized with myself about a million times on how smoking is just a part of my life that I should just accept and embrace. I tell myself that it would be easier to live a potentially shorter life as a happy smoker, than a longer, healthier life as an angry and irritated non-smoker.)

It's funny how even death doesn't seem to be a good enough reason at times.

that being said, I am still going the distance. -- I don't want to be a slave to cigarettes, or to big tobacco companies (and the government) who are charging me an arm and a leg to kill myself. I don't want to knowingly continue to commit a slow smoke-filled suicide on my own dime. (Shit, $14 every two days to kill myself!? I think this is a lose-lose situation!) I know how horrible the ramifications of smoking are. I don't have the luxury of pleading ignorance to feed my addiction.

I know that I am only four days in, but as I've already said: These have been some of the longest days of my life. (I know I sound like a big baby, and I know that it's hard for people to empathize with me, but wow...This is an insane ride...)

The good part about this whole quitting thing is that I've really changed my perspective on my deadly habit (and kicking it).

It used to be that I would quit under the pressure of someone else. (Boyfriends who didn't smoke were always trying to make me quit the habit, as were my family members and friends...) This time though, I am doing it for me. I'm accountable to myself and nobody else. I know that if I want to have a drag of a cigarette, or even buy a pack of cigarettes, I can. I don't have anybody to answer to. (That's a really nice feeling. Rather than feeling pressure from the people who love me, I feel support from them for a decision that I've made on my own.)

I don't plan on taking a drag of a cigarette or buying a pack. However, I feel empowered knowing that I can if I want to.

Oh well, at this point I am hoping that things will only start to get better! (I still get the shakes and fiend somethin' fierce, but I'm still on the wagon...)

Oh, and I promise that I will stop blogging about this whole non-smoking thing. No really, I will. Right now though, I need an outlet, so you're all stuck with reading about it!

Cheers!

Day Two: Smoking is cheaper than a crack addiction...

2010-08-10T09:49:00.003-05:00

Happier times.

So yesterday, as I was driving in my car, I almost convinced myself to buy a pack of cigarettes. I rationalized every possible situation that would make it seem like a good idea to quit quitting smoking...

First, I told myself that I would buy a cheap pack of cigarettes, smoke one, and leave them in the car for when I want to "casually smoke." Second, I rationalized that my smoking habit was actually far less costly than a crack or meth habit. (No seriously. I almost convinced myself that I should be proud to take up smoking because it's a legal addiction to have and it costs less than crack. I think.) Third, I tried to liberate myself. ("Torches of Freedom!") I told myself that I was my own person, and that if I wanted to smoke, by golly, I will smoke! Fourth, I just accepted the fact that I was a quitter (and not a quitter of smoking, but a quitter of quitting smoking!)

I didn't buy the cigarettes.

Even though I feel that I've made some great arguments (Hey, who can argue with the price of cigarettes vs. the price of hard drugs? Really?!) I know that I need to try and stick with this. I just can't justify not trying to quit anymore. This habit is killing me and making me poor for God sakes!

The worst part about all this is that quitting smoking is a hard-fought battle that makes me feel like I have no soul! (No, seriously. I feel dead on the inside.) Like, I have this weird sense of loss that is looming over me. It's like I've lost my best friend.

Ugh. I have lost my best friend. (No offence anyone who might be offended by reading this, but I like smoking more than I like hanging out with most people...Just sayin...)

"Oh Cigarette, come back, I need you!!"

I've been smoking for more than half of my life! Quitting smoking honestly doesn't seem right to me (even though I know it is!) Hell, it's been my companion through good times and bad...We've vacationed together, and worked together...We've done everything together!

"Goodbye Cigarettes. I'll never forget the times we've had."

Ugh.

Today (Day two) I'm still a fiending wreck whose got the shakes and a bad attitude. At this stage of the quitting process I would probably still trade a kidney for a drag of a cigarette or something...

Sigh.

Day One: FML

2010-08-09T14:12:00.003-05:00

Happier times, Circa last week.

Well today is the first day of the rest of my life because I quit smoking.

You'd think that I would be happy that I've quit this bitch, but I'm not. In fact, more than anything my mood shifts from anger to depression to complete and utter loss. There is no sunshine left in my soul today.

I hate quitting.

I'll be honest when I say that I am unsure if I will be able to maintain my life as a non-smoker. I mean, I quit and hope to remain that way, but since I have been doing it for so long, I might slip back into my old puff-puff ways. (I say this because the last thing I need is some non-smoker to laugh at me from their high horse, ivory tower if I slip. -- Nobody likes the person who insists on saying 'I told you so.' Seriously. Nobody likes that person.)

Anyways, the reason that I have chosen to quit are as follows:

1) Stinking: I hate that I smell like a stanky old ash tray. Seriously, why do I even buy perfume?! (Smoke covered in perfume is my scent, it has been for years...)

2) Dying: I have probably already taken a number of years off of my life because of the years and years of smoking I've done. That sucks. I really wanted to live to be at least 100, or be the first person to live forever. Ugh. Damn you cigarettes.

3) Poverty: Cigarettes vs. Food. That's the constant battle that smokers often face. (Thank you Visa for allowing me to not have to make that choice...Sure I am in debt for the next couple of years, but at least I got to smoke and eat!) For real though, it's not just food; I want to be able to have nice things and have awesome adventures. I'm so sick of all my happy non-smoking friends who go on trips and have nice (new) things. I don't want to be the poor smoker who can't afford stuff and who always has wind-blown hair. That's not cool.

4) Uncool: Well damn you Wynona Ryder (AKA Lelaina Pierce in Reality Bites, circa 1994)! You made smoking look super cool. Ugh. Not only did you make smoking look cool, but pretty much every band, singer, Hollywood movie, actor or actress made smoking the thing to do in the early 90s. -- Smoking, grunge, depression and suicide, that's what the 90s were all about man. And now, flash forward to 2010, none of that stuff is remotely cool anymore! (Not gonna lie, that's kinda good cause the whole grunge thing was really depressing...)Still, I was hoping cigarettes would make a comeback.

Ugh. I have the shakes and can't concentrate on anything. Quitting sucks.

The D-bag at Wal-Mart

2010-08-01T18:24:00.006-05:00

So I just encountered the biggest D-bag of all time today at Wal-Mart.

The guy: 'Mr. six foot five, good looking, red Burton hat and flip-flop wearing jerk,' pulled the ultimate d-bag move when he blatantly slithered in front of me in the ten items or less line, with his cart full of items, as the store was closing.

Arrrgh!

I just stood there with this look on my face:

Seriously, I was stunned.

The kicker though, is that I didn't say anything! Instead, I just stood there, balancing my bottle of bleach, 24-pack of toilet paper and other household cleaners, with that look painted onto my face.

And then a girl, who I assume was his girlfriend, walked up. She kind of chuckled and told Mr. D-bag that he couldn't go in that line.

"Don't worry about it," was his reply, as they both smirked. (Him out of arrogance and her out of what looked to be a combination of embarrassment and arrogance.)

She sipped on her medium McDonalds drink and they chatted. (I don't know what about, because I was too busy fuming....)

"You're going to cut me in line?" I was saying to him in my head. "Oh you crossed the line, I'm going to blog about you. Yeah, that's it. I'm going to blog about you and all my friends are going to know what a d-bag you are. So there!"

Then, I overheard him tell the girl to put her McDonalds cup on the floor.

"Let them pick it up," he said. "Or give it back to them and tell them you don't want it."

UGH!

"You know what, now you've really crossed the line," I yelled at him in my head. "If I wasn't too scared to tell you off in real life, I would totally call you out right here. But no, I'm a chicken. That's ok though, all my friends are going to read my blog, and they're going to be appalled by your actions and you'll be so embarrassed...Well, you would be anyway, if you knew that I was blogging about you...No, wait. You probably wouldn't be embarrassed because you're such an arrogant jerk that you likely think this stuff is funny. Well let me tell you something: You, sir, are a d-bag. A big, dumb, d-bag!"

I just stood there. Fuming in my head, with that stupid look painted on my face.

"Oh, and another thing, I'm going to remember your outfit and tell all my friends, and someone's going to know who you are based on my description, and they'll be like 'yeah, that guy's a d-bag!' and I'll say, 'I know!' and then we'll talk about you..."

(What?! I was mad...)

So then the d-bag and his lady cash out, and as I pass by them to go to my check-out, I give them both the meanest, dirtiest look (without actually making eye contact because I'm scared of confrontation) I tell myself that I am going to write the meanest blog rant ever about them.

"Take that d-bag and girlfriend. Take that!"

So here it is, my rant.

If you know this d-bag, message me so we can talk about him behind his back...

Work Weekend

2010-08-01T13:05:00.004-05:00

So it's Sunday. (And it's not just any Sunday either; it's the Sunday of the August long weekend.)

I've decided to go to work today.

Now, I should point out that I don't have to go into work today -- I am after all an intern -- but I have this huge project that I am doing for some executives of the corporation and I really want to get ahead of it. (Right now I have just completed the task of compiling most of my required data. I now need to sort, organize and compile a list of my findings. After that, I will feel like I am on top of this project and ready to go into the next phase...)

It's weird. A few years ago, I wouldn't have even considered going into work on a long weekend to do a project unless there was an incentive (like over-time) involved. But alas I have become accustomed to the ways of a CreCommer. -- Don't get me wrong, I don't want to make myself sound better than I actually am, because I still fly by the seat of my pants for many of my projects and endeavours, but this particular project needs special attention.

My, how school has changed me!

One of the values that I have learned in CreComm (and not in any particular class, but throughout the entire program) is that the greatest measure of success comes from those who work hard and go beyond what is expected of them to get the task at hand done. (It only took a year of stress-filled all-nighters to evoke this revelation!)

I want to produce good work. I want to show my bosses, and myself, that I am capable of the projects that they give me. Perhaps, most importantly, I want to establish a reputation of being someone who works hard. (A good reputation is for more valuable than over-time hours.)

Oh well, that being said, I have to go to work. I have these three huge binders on my desk that are just calling my name! (Seriously, I have been thinking about them non-stop since I left the office on Friday. It's hilarious and strange!)

Cheers friends, happy long weekend!

On a side note: Sometimes I am so damn cheesy on this blog. (There is absolutely no uniform layout for what I write about!) Ugh.

Mr. Smooth - Version 1.0

2010-07-27T22:13:00.005-05:00

Gather 'round friends, I am going to share with y'all my infinite wisdom about relationships.

(FYI for everyone that reads my blog: Yesterday I had an epiphany and decided that I am truly a relationship expert. -- Sure, I don't currently have a relationship. And it's true that I have probably suffered some of the most humiliating break-ups of all time. And ok, I probably should be married by now...But believe me, I am an expert.)

So here we go, let's talk about the infamous 'Mr. Smooth' today.

For those of you who have been fortunate enough to dodge a bullet, and somehow miss dating 'Mr. Smooth,' you are perhaps the luckiest bunch of people around; he's a sly one and he's been around the block a few times...

For those of us who have dated him -- or different variations of him -- have no fear, my friends, you are not alone. (Heck, we've probably dated him at the same time, because that's just the kinda guy that he is.)

I first met my 'Mr. Smooth' in 2002. He was a chiseled hunk, who was all sorts of mysterious. (Ahh, the good 'ol days when I was just a young lass who still believed in fairy tales...)

My 'Mr. Smooth' was a damaged fella, just having his heart broken by an evil ex-girlfriend who, by his accounts, was a beautiful monster that broke his heart and then haunted him. -- He was vulnerable and sensitive. He spoke honestly about how he wasn't ready to settle back into a relationship just yet, but how I was his best friend for listening to all of his anguish and heartache.

In a weird sort of reverse fairy tale, I was the one who was rescuing him.

Even though my 'Mr. Smooth' wasn't ready for a relationship, he was ready (and extremely able) to sleep with me. In fact, he told me that he "liked me" but he just couldn't be my boyfriend because he was simply in too much pain from the last relationship.

And, just like that; after he let me into his soul, I foolishly let him into my pants. (Ahh, right where he wants me: He can sleep with me, guilt-free, and still keep his options open. Genius.)

Friends, this is red flag number one about 'Mr. Smooth.' -- He plays an excellent victim. If you think that your new crush might be a 'Mr. Smooth,' consider all of the things he's already told you about himself; do you know everything about his 'evil' ex-girlfriend? Did he tell you of all the wonderful and romantic things that he did for her, only to have her rip out his heart and stomp it into a billion pieces right in front of him? Did he shed a tear, as he told you about the void in his soul? If any of this sounds familiar it's because dude is playing a game!

Any guy who actually likes you would never tell you that stuff! -- Not the first couple of times you hang out anyway. For some strange reason, most of us buy into this bullshit because we are too blinded by our crush on the guy, as well we are controlled by the competitive little voice in the back our mind that tells us that we could treat him better than that.

'Mr. Smooth' is banking on that.

Let us continue.

As time went on, 'Mr. Smooth' dropped the L-bomb on me in only a matter of a few months. I was in a state of euphoria; this chiseled hunk of a man loved me, who cares if we didn't have an official boyfriend-girlfriend title. I had his heart! He loved me!

Red flag number two: Ladies, if a guy tells you that he loves you, but still has issues with actually calling himself your boyfriend, there is something terribly wrong here. Seriously. First of all, I'd venture to say that the L-word is a heck of a lot scarier than the B-word. Furthermore, of course he's going to tell you that he loves you if you've stuck around for a few months, become his regular booty-call and not ask (or at least have the girlfriend-cred to ask) if he is sleeping with other chicks as well. You, my friends, have just let this guy have his cake and eat it too. True story.

And now back to my 'Mr. Smooth'...

Since my 'Mr. Smooth' loved me, I wanted to show him that I would make a fantastic girlfriend. I knew it was only a matter of time before he was ready to commit to me, and I didn't want to miss it by living my life. (Sounds crazy, but it's true, lots of us do it.) I gave up on going out with my friends, in case he called and wanted to hang out. I met him at work for his lunch break. Heck, I even brought him lunches when he'd call me and tell me that he didn't like the one he had. -- I was so wrapped up in trying to prove myself, that I totally didn't notice that the sweet and vulnerable man that I loved, and more importantly, loved me, had become this selfish d-bag that was using me. (Ok, he was using me long before this. However, at this point he had taking using me to a whole new level...)

Red flag number three: When start ditching your friends because 'Mr. Smooth' might call you, or might want to hang out, you are in a whole heap of something crazy. Ladies, it's awesome to want to hang out with your dude all the time, but guys like 'Mr. Smooth' want all of your time, even if they're not around to share it with you. -- Though it's easy to blame this type of behaviour entirely on 'Mr. Smooth,' it's a shared responsibility because you're letting him use you.

...And now back to the saga of Shelley and 'Mr. Smooth circa 2002.'

By the time 'Mr. Smooth' had finally allowed himself to be dubbed my boyfriend, we were already in a messy, volatile relationship that involved lots of fighting, yelling, dramatics and tears. It was like the Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde of relationships; one minute we were in love and the next minute we hated each other. The only thing that seemed constant was the fact that we would break-up, only to get back together. (Sometimes we'd get back together during the same fight that broke us up in the first place!) -- Ladies, I had now become 'the monster' that he first told me about way back when, only this time I saw a side I didn't know about.

Red flag number four: Look, this whole thing is a red flag. Get out before he crushes your soul and eats it for breakfast with the girl, or girls, that he is cheating on you with. I don't even have any advice for you if you get to this point, and I'm an expert!

So, here we have it. I know that this post is vague, and based far too much on my own personal experience. However, this guy was probably the smoothest "victim" I have ever met in my entire life. -- He got me with his chiseled good looks, and tortured soul...I was young.

Either way, this might be an isolated case (as there are still other variations of the smooth one...) But ladies, if this post is all too familiar to you, I suggest you abort the mission to be this guy's number one, cause it's futile.

Next time I will talk about a different version of 'Mr. Smooth.' -- This one's a lot more fun, I promise...

Picture: www.vegaschatter.com

My grade seven humiliation (Re-post circa the mid-2000s)

2010-07-27T21:02:00.007-05:00

Old-school Shelley Circa early 1990s. Hotness.

Okay, for those of you have read my blogs since I started them all those years ago, this story is an old one (but a GOOD one none the less...)

Before I tell it, I feel as though I must offer up some sort of introduction to my moment of junior high humiliation. -- You see, when I was in grade seven, I was one of those kids that wanted so badly to fit in. The only problem was that I wasn't cool.

I was quite the opposite.

I was a chubby kid, who wore bright red lipstick (with no other makeup to contrast the offensive color of my crimson lips) I had frizzy brown hair and wore hand-me-downs from my older sister, or from anyone that would send over a bag of clothes that their kids had grown out of, or just didn't like anymore. (Shit, I'm still like that now, the only difference is that now I embrace my nerdyness. Hell, I'd go as far as to say that I kinda brag about it now...Bwahaha...)

Yup.

Back then I was likely the farthest thing from 'cool' that there was...

Anyways, I remember when I was going into grade seven, my mom bought me my first pair of button-fly Levi’s. Right off the bat they were my favorite jeans because they were brand new and because they actually had some sort of recognizable brand name attached to them. I loved those jeans, I always felt a strong sense of confidence when I wore them. I think it was because they were all mine, they had never belonged to anyone else before; they were purchased especially to fit my chubby little body!!

Throughout the school year I paired my beautiful button-fly Levi’s with the generic shirts that lined my closet. It wasn't until one day, when Heather (my older sister) brought home this red and white striped 'Guess Jeans' t-shirt that her friend no longer wanted, that I had an especially spectacular outfit to wear to school. I remember being puzzled as to why Heather's friend no longer wanted this beautiful t-shirt with such a prestigious name brand on it.

I seriously couldn't fathom how this girl could so easily throw away such a treasured piece of clothing.

The next morning (after Heather brought that t-shirt home) I remember waking up, and actually looking forward to going to school. -- Call me crazy, but I actually thought that my power-outfit would make me instantly popular with all of the cool kids at school. -- I envisioned walking through the halls in my red and white guess jeans t-shirt and my button-fly Levi’s, being noticed by the cool kids, as a cool kid.

I remember getting dressed that morning, and actually feeling different in that outfit. I carefully applied my poppy red lipstick and added a little bit of dippity-doo gel to my afro-curly hair. I fiddled with the t-shirt a little bit, as I examined myself in Heather's full length mirror, wondering if I should tuck it in, or leave it out.

I tucked the t-shirt in.

I untucked it.

I tucked it in again.

I untucked it again...

After about half an hour of tucking and untucking my red and white striped 'Guess Jeans' t-shirt, I finally settled on tucking it in. I figured that by tucking it in I looked more sophisticated and grown up.

When I got to school that morning, I remember feeling as though I was the coolest and prettiest girl in the whole school; I walked through the junior high entrance with my head held high, waiting for everybody to stop what they were doing and look at me in all of my 'coolness.'

This day was going to be a good day!

I put my coat and my backpack in my locker and decided to saunter down the hallway (as though it was my catwalk) to show the whole junior high world, the new and improved me.

"Damn, I look good," I thought to myself as I walked past all the IB Kids.

Just then, out of the corner of my eye, I see him. -- the most popular boy in grade seven. -- This boy was so cute, and so cool that even the grade eight kids liked him...

"Get ready to shine," I thought, as he walked towards me with his equally cool friend.

I figured that this was my moment. I was sure that he was going to walk past me, and we would exchange a smile or a simple 'hello', which would pave the way for my impending popularity, but instead he started to walk towards me...

"Oh Goodness," I thought, with every step he took. "He's coming this way..."

I took a deep breath and told myself not to get too excited when the cutest boy in grade seven talked to me.

"Here he comes..."

And then it happened...

He -- The cutest, most popular boy in grade seven -- walked right up to me, only a couple of inches from my face and he said:

"You're ugly."

Huh?!

His friend laughed hysterically, as he repeated the insult once or twice more.

I just looked at him; dumbfounded.

With my ego crushed and my face burning with humiliation, I quickly looked down at the floor and slowly started walking away. I tried to save face, and pretended that I didn't notice his cruel remark.

As I walked down the long stretch of hall, I could hear them laughing.

"hahaha -- You’re so ugly!!" They repeated.

I turned the corner at the end of the hallway, and I could still hear them laughing at me.

I was utterly traumatized. This was the worst day of my 13-year-old life!

My 'power-outfit' had failed me miserably and I was now trapped in the grade eight hallway, with only minutes before homeroom was to begin. I opted to take the long way around (through the front, outside, and back to the side door in which I had first come in...) because I didn't want to pass the cutest, most popular (also now also the meanest) boy in seventh grade.

Needless to say, I was late for homeroom, had to walk into class in front of all my seated classmates and received a stern warning for my tardy behaviour.

That was probably one of my most humiliating, traumatic, 'Never Been Kissed' high school moments!! -- Thank goodness I have a thick skin (and a sick sense of humor) and laugh about it every time I think about it now.

Oh, and for the record, I NEVER wore that shirt again!!

Rock bottom in a see-through dress and granny panties.

2010-07-27T12:24:00.005-05:00

I started this summer with big intentions to lose weight.

"I'm going to go back to school and be super hot," I told myself. "I'm going to run and join Weight Watchers. -- I'm totally going to be the hottest chick at Red River, probably even in Winnipeg..."

Flash forward to today, with only a month left of summer holidays, I am fully cognizant that I'm still the same, if not slightly larger than before. Ugh. My clothes seem to be getting tighter, and my overall big idea to lose weight has gone down the hatch (along with a few million calories over the course of this summer I might add.)

Now why I am blogging about this rather uncomfortable situation you might ask. Well, today I have hit rock bottom.

This morning as I was rummaging through my clothes, trying to find something office-appropriate, I almost had a meltdown. Everything I own seems to highlight my ever-growing muffin-top. Everything!

I ended up settling on (an unintentional) semi-see through dress (that is not flattering by any means) coupled with a pair of beat up heels. The kicker though, is that I am wearing granny panties underneath. (Perhaps it is not appropriate to write about my under garments. However, I feel that this is relevant to my story, as any single 31-year old woman who willingly wears granny panties has, in my opinion, indeed hit rock bottom. Ugh, in all fairness though, I should point out that the package said they were "boy shorts" when I bought them at the discount store. These are certainly not "boy shorts." I shake my fist at you discount store!!)

Anyways, as I write this, I am eating my frozen Weight Watchers entre and deciding that today is the day that I am going to change my lifestyle! Hooray! -- Yes, I understand that I make this commitment to change my lifestyle at least once a week, only to cave at the first sighting of anything artery-cloggingly delicious. And sure, I have moments where I console myself with phrases like: "At least I have a sparkling personality..." But really. I'm 31-years old, a thousand per cent single, and really need to be able to look spandex-wearing-good (and cougar-ready) in the next couple of years.

Muffin-top's and granny panties don't bode well for cougars.

So here we go, today I am going to get back on the "I'm going to get skinny" bandwagon.

Look out world, here I come!

Update: Obviously I did something wrong today, because I am starving my head off. So much so that I am starting to get that "Fuck it. I have a sparkly personality, now pass the *insert ANY food here*" mentality. Ugh. I drank a lot of water today, I don't get it.

Worse yet, I am at my parents house for dinner, and they're known to be "food-pushers." Having them love and accept me no matter what kinda kills the diet a little bit.

Ugh.

Calgon take me awaaaaaaaaaay...

Picture: www.theiemommy.com

What do you do when the sky is falling!?

2010-07-26T22:00:00.002-05:00

You pull your car over and take some awesome pictures!

Thank you kind sir...

2010-07-23T14:25:00.000-05:00

This afternoon I got howled at (so to speak) by a construction worker. (No seriously, I thought that only happened in the movies too...) He said: "Hey, how are you doing."

Ok, so it's not much and it's extremely cliché, but whatever guy, I'll take it!

Thank you kind sir for taking time out of your day to notice me.

The end.

Good morning coffee and laptop...

2010-07-20T06:49:00.003-05:00

It's sunny outside at 6:49 am.

Hanging out in my bed with a coffee and my laptop seems like a good start to the day. (Although I don't have much time to blog as I have back to back meetings at the office to see me through the morning.)

My summer internship has proven to be very rewarding, as it seems that I have found the world of internal communications far more interesting and rewarding than I initially thought it would be. (I think one of the reason's is because I'm lucky to have a great boss who lets me be creative and explore the different aspects of this job.)

Part of my job is writing for the company newsletter. It's really neat because I have worked for this corporation for almost 10-years, and therefore I feel as though I am at an advantage because I am familiar with both the newsletter and the people that make up this corporation. -- I keep trying to put my frontline experience and personality in my work to make it more relatable to my co-workers. Writing interesting stories is extremely important to me.

Another job function that I have involves gathering information. Though I can't go into a great deal of information about this project (for fear that it is confidential) I am having a good time understanding and learning about this project...

I think one of the most important aspects of this internship is that I have discovered the difference between a job and a career. Though I do have a good job that pays well, I can't wait until I am done school so that I can start my career on a full-time basis. -- One of the main differences that I have discovered between a job and a career is that I work harder in a career setting because my work is something that is my own. In my job, I feel as though I simply follow procedures and company protocol in order to meet the expectations of my outlined position, whereas my career sees me working hard because I want to better myself and the company at the same time.

It's difficult to explain, however I suppose that the best explanation would simply be that my career allows me to work hard and create a body of work for the company that is mine. -- I like the job autonomy and the respect of my colleagues. I like wearing my own clothes and being able to have an opinion.

I guess I better get ready for my day at the office...

Until later friends.

The Bon Jovi Experience.

2010-07-18T17:47:00.006-05:00

The stadium was packed for the Bon Jovi concert last night. Cougars, young and old, came out to worship our communal boyfriend (Jon Bon Jovi.) and sing-along to timeless Bon Jovi songs like Bad Medicine and Living on a Prayer.

The smell of pot wafted through the warm summer air, as mother nature threatened fans with dark rain clouds that hovered over the open stadium. Swarms of people congregated in common areas, it was as though the entire city had come out for the show.

The lineups for both alcohol and the washrooms were staggering; drinking and peeing were a commitment for those who were willing to invest the time -- and money at $7 a pop for a drink -- to wait for their turn.

The roar of the excited crowd welcomed the boys from Jersey on stage as the sky began to dim. With only a little bit of interaction with the audience, Bon Jovi broke into a chain of songs old and new.

It was a good concert, though not the best Bon Jovi show I'd seen. However, scoring the deal of a lifetime by getting five dollar tickets, I'd say that it was the best five dollars I have ever spent.

After last night's performance I can honestly say that I am still madly in love with Jon Bon Jovi, and that he and his intense song lyrics have ruined me for all men...

Advice on dating 'Mr. Wrong' -- 'Mr. Bachelor'

2010-07-11T14:43:00.009-05:00

Dating: It's a dog-eat-dog world out there, especially the older you get. Trust me. It seems that if you're not married by the time you are 30 (Or, in my case, 31) than chances are you have had a few encounters with Mr. Wrong. -- Hey, Mr. Wrong can be a fun person to date if you know just exactly what you are getting yourself into!

Mr. Bachelor

Take for example 'Mr. Bachelor,' he's that good-looking guy who says things that make you feel all flowery inside. You're drawn to him almost instantly because he's the kinda guy that takes the time to stroke your ego, and he'll probably make you feel like a million bucks. Yep, 'Mr. Bachelor' is that mysterious stranger that has that certain je nes se quois. For him, flirting is a lifestyle.

'Mr. Bachelor' is usually a straight-shooter: He means everything that he says, but his words must be interpreted in the most literal sense possible. For example: When 'Mr. Bachelor' tells you something -- let's say he tells you that he thinks you're really pretty -- he means it. He thinks you're really pretty. However, that's all he means.

Too often we get caught off guard by a guy like 'Mr. Bachelor.' We are thrown off because his candour is so blatant that it becomes like a foreign language to us.

He told me that I was really pretty. What is he really trying to say?!

We begin to over-analyze his motives for telling us that we're pretty, or whatever, and just like that the simple thing that 'Mr Bachelor' has said to us instills a deep sense of confusion.

Why would he tell me I'm really pretty? Does he like me? Does he want to be my boyfriend?Should I ask for his number?! Does he really think I'm pretty?! He's probably just trying to get me in the sack! I bet he says this to all the ladies...

Communication error.

Therefore, when dating a guy like 'Mr. Bachelor,' we need to ensure that we understand how he works before we land ourselves into a situation that sees us getting hurt.

Step One: Simplify your mind

When 'Mr. Bachelor' says anything to you, take it literally. -- If he tells you that you're pretty say thank you. If he tells you that he likes you, then he likes you. (Just remember that him telling you that he likes you is not him telling you that he wants to be your boyfriend.)

Step Two: Dating is not the same as a full-blown committed relationship

If you and 'Mr. Bachelor' start dating (or start sleeping together) it doesn't mean that he is your 'boyfriend.' Nope. Never assume a title with a guy like 'Mr. Bachelor' unless it has been clearly established. Simply dating or sleeping with him means that you are simply dating or sleeping with him. -- To him, it is what it is.

Now, if you are comfortable with the situation as it is, then this is ok. However, when you are only dating or sleeping with someone it usually means that there is no exclusivity in this type of situation. Unless there are clearly established guidelines that openly state that neither of you will date or sleep with other people, the door is wide open. (Remember, 'Mr. Bachelor' sees the world in literal form, If you are just casually seeing each other the only thing saying that he can't casually see anyone else at the same time is you.)

If you want to be more than just a casual relationship with 'Mr. Bachelor,' ask him. He will likely tell you one of two things:

1. He wants more than a casual relationship as well, and you will become his official girlfriend.

2. He only wants a casual relationship.

Never assume!

Why?:

There's nothing wrong with getting to know 'Mr. Bachelor,' he makes a great 'vacation kinda boyfriend.' (Vacation Boyfriend: Temporary! Yes it's fun while it lasts, and you might plan a revisit for one day, but nothing that is realistic for your day-to-day life.) Dude will perhaps settle down and be boyfriend material one day, but until he decides to make that step, you can't change him.

Playing the field can be fun. Dating doesn't always mean booty calls and it doesn't always mean relationships. Sometimes dating is just hanging out with someone for awhile...

Next time, we'll talk about 'Mr. Smooth.' -- He's the one that you have to watch out for.

Welcome to paradise...

2010-07-09T19:05:00.004-05:00

So I am at the cottage with my family and I am in absolute heaven. It's a perfect combination of the great outdoors and the "modern way of life." (Obviously if I found an internet connection to "borrow.")

I keep day-dreaming about the day that I will be able to buy myself a little cottage. (Ahh, the ideal dreams of a student!) But seriously, I figure that once I have established myself in a career that I love, life will take me into a whole new chapter.

I want a city condo, and a winterized cabin. I want to travel and meet (and perhaps even marry) someone with the same goals and objectives that I have. I also want to continue to learn, whether it's in a formalize environment or not. (I keep talking about going back to university after I get my joint degree so that I can work on getting a history degree for fun...I love history.)

I guess time at the cottage, away from 'real life,' has given me a lot of time to think about the rest of my life. I don't know if my plans with come into fruition, as nothing I plan in my life seems to, but it's nice to have dreams...

Wow this was a pointless and whimsical post!

Cheers friends!

Predators of Social Media

2010-07-07T23:31:00.004-05:00

So, this morning I got a Facebook message from someone I don't know named Val. She writes that she found me on the Winnipeg Harvest Volunteer Group on Facebook.

In an extremely long and sterile message, Val offered me "an opportunity" that she claims has "huge financial potential." She continues that even though it (the opportunity) is a "personal involvement," a few of "them" (Dunno who they are) see how this opportunity "with huge financial potential" can be used to raise money for any cause at all, and they've developed a "process to do that."

(Wow, Val you want to share this "opportunity with huge financial potential" with me so that I can save the world?! -- You're too kind...)

Essentially the message explained nothing, and sounded as though it came straight from a pyramid scheme handbook. (Long, sterile, and the illusion of free money. I bet Val just copied and pasted this note from a template and sent it to me and a number of other people...)

Ugh.

Perhaps I am overreacting here, but I am offended that Val is scoping out strangers on a non-profit volunteer group on Facebook to recruit for her "opportunities with huge financial potential." I am also offended by her grammar inconsistencies and spelling mistakes...

Ugh.

Like, I get it, times are tough and that perhaps people in this "marketing businesses" have to create their own opportunities too. Heck, I'm all for that. But to go on a friggin NON-PROFIT Facebook page to recruit members...Really?! I think it's super tacky.

Here is the message, I'd like some input onto whether or not I am overreacting...

Hi Shelley...I found you in the Winnipeg Harvest volunteer group here on facebook. I would like to run an idea by you due to your interest in that group.

There is a new opportunity that is going to be a very big deal real soon with huge financial potential. It's a marketing company that provides services from many companies of which most people use every day. More and more are coming on all the time. It is available in US and Canada to anyone who chooses. It is for personal involvement, however a few of us see how it can be used to raise money for any cause at all, and have developed a process to do that as well.

Although this part is not promoted through the business, we feel that there is alot that can be accomplished this way. I'm sure you will agree, most people are tired of traditional ways of raising money for the never ending causes out there, and there as so many places that need funds, including regular families.

The opportunity is not so much about selling, but becoming a customer of services that you pay for every month anyways. For the most part, becoming involved means switching your own point of purchase from your current provider of services to the ones that make sense for your family, ie,... long distance, phone, travel booking, fitness memberships, roadside assistance just to name a few.

In addition there is an online shopping mall with over 900 stores, including Home Depot, Sears, Safeway, Applebees, Starbucks, Best Western, Budget. just naming a few... when you shop thru your mall, not only do you collect reward points, but also get a commission paid to you from whatever store you have purchased from.

It is simply a change to the way you buy or pay for the things you are going to buy or pay for anyways, and getting paid for doing so.

This is going to become very big in the very near future, and I'm looking for people who will share the vision of where this is going and who would want to be part of it and take advantage of the timing with where this company is going.

There is alot more to it, and lot of money that can be made,.. I'm just giving you a small overview of what its about,... not how it works...

Please get back to me and I'd be more than happy to arrange sharing the details with you. Also forward this on to anyone who would want to increase their personal income while continuing with whatever they are doing, or who has a passion for any other cause that relies on donations or funding.

I truly believe that everybody should see this plan to see what is available and to decide if it is for them.

I look forward to your reply...

thanks.... ...Val (I live just outside of Wpg )

Exciting find...

2010-07-06T06:56:00.002-05:00

I love when people leave random messages in random places for strangers to find. (Seriously, I love the whole anonymous positivity and insight others feel inclined to share.) So when I found this little post it note on a newspaper box on Kenaston I was thrilled!

There is a website listed on this post-it (www.operationbeautiful.com) I actually logged on to find a viral campaign targeted at eliminating negative self-talk! Genius!

I have yet to make my own post-it note to leave in a random place, but I will.

Thanks stranger who left this note, I enjoyed it!

The bathing suit...

2010-07-05T21:08:00.004-05:00

So this year I finally broke down and did something that many women, including myself, dread; I bought a bathing suit. Yep. I bought myself the cheapest one-piece I could find. (A $14 suit -- on sale from $34 -- at 30 per cent off from Old Navy.)

Last week I went to Old Navy on a mission: I wanted to find a bathing suit that would hold everything in and I didn't even care how it looked. Sure the entire experience of trying on skin tight swim wear is both traumatic and what I would describe as a self-loathing experience, however it was something that needed to be done.

I was brave. I was determined. I was on a roll! In fact, I was shimmying into bathing suits and studying myself in the mirror like nobody's business!

After a daunting lifetime in the change room, I selected a brown bathing suit that met my needs. I wavered for a second about spending my hard earned money on something that makes me look...Well, let's just say that it's not the most flattering thing I own. But, it needed to be done, because I have some serious swimming to attend to with my adorable little "water baby" niece.

Now, I'm not sure if I have become more secure in my own skin, or if reality has finally beat me down, but buying (and wearing) my bathing suit was a sort of liberating experience. I mean yes, I admit that if I was a celebrity I would make the National Enquirer's "Worst beach body" issue. And sure, I am likely not going to attract any boyfriends with my bodacious beach bod, but I don't give a care. (Yes, I said "I don't give a care." I'm bringing that phrase back...)

Wow. There. I said it.

I guess it all comes down to this: I know that I'm never going to be a waif. I have accepted that. In fact, I have come to the realization that and I am sick to death of trying to be a waif. I have, what an ex-boyfriend once called "a little extra love on my bones." (Thank you JP, I prefer that term to all the rest.) Life is way to short to sit and feel sorry for myself because my curves are in all the wrong places. Meh.

THIS CHUBBY MERMAID NEEDS TO SWIM!!!

Anyways, this summer I will be hitting any pool, beach, or water source that I can find in my bathing suit. It might not be pretty -- It might look downright ridiculous -- but I'll probably be having fun.

Screw you bathing suit phobia, I win!

Photo: Courtesy of a blog called: "Fat men of the Sea"

The End: I completed the challenge.

2010-07-05T07:34:00.000-05:00

Well, I logged onto Facebook today. It was rather anticlimactic, and I plan to impose new rules on myself (I am not allowed to become a Facebook zombie!) This morning when I logged on I checked my notifications, replied to two messages and said hello to an online friend. Then, I logged off. It was short, sweet, and like I already said anticlimactic.

I didn't miss Facebook as much as I thought I would during my week-long hiatus. Sure, I logged back on almost instantly, but unlike before, I actually looked and left. (Before I had the tendency to creep extensively, until I wound up looking at my friend Jane Doe's cousin's friend's brother's wife's baby shower pictures. It was dumb.) I hope to be more conscious of my time from now on. (Seriously, I don't even like looking at countless pictures of people I don't know. Perhaps one picture will suffice for curiosity sake if I've heard about them, but looking at entire albums is ridiculous!)

This week I am on a mini-vacation, so I won't have to worry about logging onto Facebook. I'll be out at the lake, and there is no wireless internet to "borrow" this year, so I'll be offline for a few days anyway. It'll be good.

One thing that I didn't do is make my "to do" list (of things that I needed to accomplish before I logged back onto Facebook.) I need to get on that, and perhaps just extend the list to be a "Things I would like accomplish this summer." (1. Maintain my 10k training. 2. go through my things and get rid of a lot of stuff! 3. volunteer as much as I can...)

Ahhh, I dunno.

I better get on with my day, duty calls.

Cheers friends.

My picture montage is viral.

2010-07-05T07:07:00.002-05:00

I made a picture montage about the Women's Memorial March a few months ago. I just got a notification from Lil' Sis that she found it posted on the Vancouver's Battered Women's Support Services webpage. Neat!

It is certainly exciting that my picture montage is out there for anyone and everyone to see. It's based on an important subject matter, so the more people who do see it, the better.

Day Six: Still going strong!

2010-07-03T22:57:00.003-05:00

Well, I am still going strong with my ban on Facebook and Twitter! My week stint is almost up, and I am not even hurting. -- I admit that I have had a few moments of weakness, where I've wanted to log on, but for the most part my absence is a welcomed relief.

Tomorrow is the one week mark that I banned myself from social media, and is also the day that I can return to the underworld of Facebook and Twitter. I haven't decided if I am going to though, as a little extension on the ban might be good for me.

Who knows, we shall see.

Next week I am going on a mini-vacation. I've booked a couple of days off of work, and am heading down to a cabin that my sister and her husband rent every summer. It's the cutest little place; a waterfront property where I can swim and go fishing (Yep, I go fishing with my brother-in-law when I am out there...I even bait my own hooks!) We also eat a lot out there (screw you diet!) and go on little adventures. It really is the highlight of my summer. (It always makes me wish I had a cabin.)

Anyways, there is internet access out there, but I am not sure that I will waste the few precious vacation days I have out there roaming my Facebook and Twitter pages.

Ah well, day six and I am going strong.