With such a frustrating semester, I was worried my grades would reflect my struggle. Somehow, my work and effort pulled off; I'm in the honours standing! My overall average for the whole semester was 87%. My highest mark was 98% and my lowest was 82%. I'm so happy with my grades and I'm glad I got them before Christmas!
Guess hard work really does pay off!
I've failed to mention that I'm currently working towards a paid internship. I'd be writing for an international, online fashion magazine from home. If that isn't an awesome job, I don't know what is.
I made it through the first round of interviews (over Skype). The second round included a sample article on genderless clothing. I planned it out and wrote the heck out of that thing. I'm just crossing my fingers and hoping for good news now!
2011-12-24
2011-12-22
The semester's over!
Thank goodness I finally get a break from all the madness! Now that I have time to myself, I'm not always sure what to do. Sitting around in my PJs feels a bit boring after rushing through final assignments, but I suppose I'll suffer through the boredom.
To celebrate the start to my break, I opted for some intense pain. Sounds fun, right?
I went to the illScarlett Christmas show at the Opera House. The music was great and all of the bands were local, but the crowd was crazy. I was against the stage, so crowd surfers ended up kicking me in the head multiple times.
Sounds like a fitting end to the past semester.
Since then, I've been volunteering (with a cat rescue), shopping for gifts and spending time with friends and family. I can definitely keep this up for a while.
To celebrate the start to my break, I opted for some intense pain. Sounds fun, right?
I went to the illScarlett Christmas show at the Opera House. The music was great and all of the bands were local, but the crowd was crazy. I was against the stage, so crowd surfers ended up kicking me in the head multiple times.
Sounds like a fitting end to the past semester.
Since then, I've been volunteering (with a cat rescue), shopping for gifts and spending time with friends and family. I can definitely keep this up for a while.
2011-12-01
Semester's almost over!
With only a few weeks to go, the final assignments piled up. I was somehow able to push away my procrastination tendencies to complete the projects without pulling all of my hair out.
Journalism has provided me with some time management skills.
While I was only going to bed an hour or so later than normal, some of my classmates pulled all-nighters. People just don't learn.
In one week, I completed a group filming assignment (VO/SOT with two interview clips), a journal for COMM, an online multi-media project (the homeless one), a COMM test, and a radio wraparound assignment.
Tomorrow, I have to finish an assignment on Access (horrible program that our teacher doesn't even understand).
I also have to go to Etobicoke tonight to see Humber students play some music in a pub or a coffee shop.. I'm not sure what it is. I'll be the tired girl taking creeper photos of the musicians and the crowd. The editors told me I need to take the best photos ever if I hope to get published. Watch me.
Really though.. The show's from 8 to 12 and I have a 9:50 class tomorrow morning. I also live in Brampton, so it takes me forever to get anywhere. I almost gave up on this, but I want to show the editors up.
The only problem now is that I feel all drained and done with school when a few teachers have decided to throw on a some more assignments, for good measure. Just stop while you're ahead, guys.
Journalism has provided me with some time management skills.
While I was only going to bed an hour or so later than normal, some of my classmates pulled all-nighters. People just don't learn.
In one week, I completed a group filming assignment (VO/SOT with two interview clips), a journal for COMM, an online multi-media project (the homeless one), a COMM test, and a radio wraparound assignment.
Tomorrow, I have to finish an assignment on Access (horrible program that our teacher doesn't even understand).
I also have to go to Etobicoke tonight to see Humber students play some music in a pub or a coffee shop.. I'm not sure what it is. I'll be the tired girl taking creeper photos of the musicians and the crowd. The editors told me I need to take the best photos ever if I hope to get published. Watch me.
Really though.. The show's from 8 to 12 and I have a 9:50 class tomorrow morning. I also live in Brampton, so it takes me forever to get anywhere. I almost gave up on this, but I want to show the editors up.
The only problem now is that I feel all drained and done with school when a few teachers have decided to throw on a some more assignments, for good measure. Just stop while you're ahead, guys.
2011-11-25
Thursday night in Toronto
I'm starting a petition to get new video camera batteries at my school. You can sign the petition at www.HumberCamerasAreTryingToRuinMyWholeLife,GradesAndFutureCareer.com
Though I still hate the camera batteries from my school's video cage, my group was able to film for the project! Make-a-Wish's outdoor festivities froze us and the batteries, so we decided on an indoor event - the Amnesty International Reel Awareness Film Festival. The event turned out to be far smaller than we expected, but we still got some good shots of people mingling and going into the theater. We got some great clips of a speech and two interviews with some of the festival founders.
When we arrived, we were warned that filming the attendees probably wasn't a great idea because some had spouses stuck in foreign jails. Naturally, we filmed everyone and everything anyways. No one cared one bit and the organization had a photographer there getting shots of everyone. Don't bring us down, Amnesty.
The first battery died within minutes, so we all got incredibly worried. The battery that I had been keeping warm in my pocket lasted all night though. SUCCESS!
We finished all of the inside shots and decided to do a sign off/exit shot outside the building to have a change of scenery. This time, the battery worked with us, but Torontonians heckled us instead.
While filming our 30 second shot, we had TWO people bother us. Two in the span of maybe five minutes of actual shooting. The first man was somewhere in his forties or fifties and I'm pretty sure he was drunk before 9 p.m. on a Thursday night.
He said, "Can I ask you a question?"
"Sure."
At this point, we all figured he'd ask what we were shooting for and wish us luck. Of course not.
"Do you care that no one gives a shit?"
"Uh....." *blank stares*
"No one's even here. You're not filming anything."
"Everyone's inside, watching a movie. We're just filming for an assignment."
"Yeah, well... Good luck with that," he said as he stormed off.
Sorry for interrupting your drunken stumble around Toronto with our innocent, out of the way filming. Stay classy, my friend.
The next guy was around my age (early twenties), so, needless to say, he was probably also drunk.
"Why are you zoomed in on her chin? Stop macro zooming! You're on her chin."
Uhhh... What? We had perfect framing with our on-screen reporter showing from the waist up to the top of her head. Does alcohol mess with your vision to that extent?
As soon as we finished that shoot, we booked it. We did not want any more crazies approaching us, so we packed up and left. A short while into our walk, a man started to walk beside us. He joined in on our conversation like normal, so we weren't too worried. All of a sudden, he raised his hand and told us about his watch. Apparently, he bought a $3 underwater watch that only half works, whatever that means. His mind told him we'd be interested in knowing this, I guess. I walked ahead so he wouldn't notice the fact that I was laughing like crazy. Another girl slowed down so she could laugh behind us. The last girl was stuck in the middle, listening to a story about the watch.
Soon enough, the man walked ahead, but we were all going to the same subway station. He turned around and asked if we were following him. Not on purpose, bud. Not on purpose.
He proceeded to say, "look at this" and he flashed a blue laser pointer onto his upper arm, showing off some buttons.
Uh...Congrats?
We parted ways and the girls and I went to wait for the next subway train. We just missed the last train and a random woman did too. She used all her strength to smack the support pillars with an envelope full of something hard, making a pretty loud noise each time. THE TRAINS COME EVERY 2 MINUTES, WOMAN. Calm down.
We took the train and a bus (that was SO LATE) back to school, but only got there at 10:05 or so, so we missed the 10 p.m. closing of the camera cage. I only got home around 10:40 or 10:50, but I did get a ride home, thankfully.
And that was my Thursday night in the journalism program.
Though I still hate the camera batteries from my school's video cage, my group was able to film for the project! Make-a-Wish's outdoor festivities froze us and the batteries, so we decided on an indoor event - the Amnesty International Reel Awareness Film Festival. The event turned out to be far smaller than we expected, but we still got some good shots of people mingling and going into the theater. We got some great clips of a speech and two interviews with some of the festival founders.
When we arrived, we were warned that filming the attendees probably wasn't a great idea because some had spouses stuck in foreign jails. Naturally, we filmed everyone and everything anyways. No one cared one bit and the organization had a photographer there getting shots of everyone. Don't bring us down, Amnesty.
The first battery died within minutes, so we all got incredibly worried. The battery that I had been keeping warm in my pocket lasted all night though. SUCCESS!
We finished all of the inside shots and decided to do a sign off/exit shot outside the building to have a change of scenery. This time, the battery worked with us, but Torontonians heckled us instead.
While filming our 30 second shot, we had TWO people bother us. Two in the span of maybe five minutes of actual shooting. The first man was somewhere in his forties or fifties and I'm pretty sure he was drunk before 9 p.m. on a Thursday night.
He said, "Can I ask you a question?"
"Sure."
At this point, we all figured he'd ask what we were shooting for and wish us luck. Of course not.
"Do you care that no one gives a shit?"
"Uh....." *blank stares*
"No one's even here. You're not filming anything."
"Everyone's inside, watching a movie. We're just filming for an assignment."
"Yeah, well... Good luck with that," he said as he stormed off.
Sorry for interrupting your drunken stumble around Toronto with our innocent, out of the way filming. Stay classy, my friend.
The next guy was around my age (early twenties), so, needless to say, he was probably also drunk.
"Why are you zoomed in on her chin? Stop macro zooming! You're on her chin."
Uhhh... What? We had perfect framing with our on-screen reporter showing from the waist up to the top of her head. Does alcohol mess with your vision to that extent?
As soon as we finished that shoot, we booked it. We did not want any more crazies approaching us, so we packed up and left. A short while into our walk, a man started to walk beside us. He joined in on our conversation like normal, so we weren't too worried. All of a sudden, he raised his hand and told us about his watch. Apparently, he bought a $3 underwater watch that only half works, whatever that means. His mind told him we'd be interested in knowing this, I guess. I walked ahead so he wouldn't notice the fact that I was laughing like crazy. Another girl slowed down so she could laugh behind us. The last girl was stuck in the middle, listening to a story about the watch.
Soon enough, the man walked ahead, but we were all going to the same subway station. He turned around and asked if we were following him. Not on purpose, bud. Not on purpose.
He proceeded to say, "look at this" and he flashed a blue laser pointer onto his upper arm, showing off some buttons.
Uh...Congrats?
We parted ways and the girls and I went to wait for the next subway train. We just missed the last train and a random woman did too. She used all her strength to smack the support pillars with an envelope full of something hard, making a pretty loud noise each time. THE TRAINS COME EVERY 2 MINUTES, WOMAN. Calm down.
We took the train and a bus (that was SO LATE) back to school, but only got there at 10:05 or so, so we missed the 10 p.m. closing of the camera cage. I only got home around 10:40 or 10:50, but I did get a ride home, thankfully.
And that was my Thursday night in the journalism program.
2011-11-18
Weird week
I was about to turn my week of journalism into a word, but I couldn't even come up with one word that encompasses all that happened.
Monday was surprisingly amazing. Because I did my story on Martin Lindstrom's appearance at Humber, I was able to go to the event. Lindstrom was appearing twice - once in the morning and once in the evening. I was in class for the first presentation, so I asked to go to the second. I didn't realize that the morning meet was for students and instructors and the evening show was for the top people at Humber and Humber's affiliates. I went to the area where Lindstrom would speak to find a bunch of people in suits. Needless to say, the sweaters, skinny jeans and skate shoes my sister and I wore stood out a bit. I got nervous and uncomfortable, but proceeded with the knowledge that it would be one kickass presentation.
We (this also includes my father) tried to fit in, but just couldn't quite get it right. One woman (in charge of continuing education) came up and introduced herself. She was so nice and I thank her for putting up with our awkwardness. I told her I wrote the story in the paper and she asked if I had read any of Lindstrom's books. I looked like a moron when I said I hadn't, but she proceeded to give me her personal copy of a book. Did I say she was nice?
While we talked, culinary students walked around, offering hors d'oeuvres and wine.. No joke.
Soon, we were all guided towards the Humber Room. This is a fancy restaurant run by students.
The tables had little flower arrangements and the multiple-utensil set-up. I always remember Titanic in these situations - Molly Brown's advice to Jack about working your way in towards the plate has helped me get far in life.
We started eating the fancy little salad (cheese, watermelon, various greens and cucumber) after we were told to dig in.
I'm a vegetarian, so the next course consisted of polenta fries, seasonal vegetables (you know a place is fancy when they say "seasonal"), and zucchini stuffed with cous cous.
The dessert made every bit of awkwardness worthwhile. We ate brownies with whipped cream and crab apple filling. There was even one of those lemon smears underneath it all. I had to keep myself from licking the plate.
Can you tell how much I like food? Anyways, Lindstrom did the presentation after we ate. It was fascinating. If you ever have the chance to see this man live, do it! The information and research he did was so interesting and entertaining. My dad, sister and I don't agree on anything, but we agreed on this presentation.
When he finished (he went over the time allotted, but no one seemed to care), we were told there were gift bags for us at the door. Gift bags!
I figured there would be a few clippings of Lindstrom's New York Times pieces when the speaker said they included samples of his publications. Of course not. The gift bags held Buyology and Brandwashed - Lindstrom's incredibly popular, $20-something, one-of-them-hardcover books. You have no idea how ecstatic I was. Books make me far too happy and these were great ones.
Lololol Those people at the 10 a.m. show have no idea what they missed.
Mingling with Humber's finest was a far cry from Wednesday's happenings. My only class on Wednesday starts at 3:30 p.m., so I decided to work on a project. I went to a breakfast for people who don't have the money to afford food at a local church. I thought I'd see maybe a few people eating their meals, but was surprised to discover there was a basement full of people in need. They looked like everyday people who probably take the bus with me or walk past me on the streets. We've been taught that homeless people all have addictions and clothing with rips and tears. For some reason, I pictured dirty men covered in facial hair. THIS is why I'm doing the assignment. Some of the less fortunate people that come to the breakfast are struggling single mothers, men who've been through bad divorces, people struggling with mental illness, people who've been laid off and people who've come from abuse and broken homes.
Because I was in journalism, equipped with a recorder and a camera in a bag, most of the people didn't want to talk with me. It turned out working for me when one man told me his story of success. He lived on the streets for many, many years, broken by addiction and mental illness. Somehow, he was able to study up on mental illness and overcame it to run for office in the area, write a book and now teach students at various colleges and universities. He still goes back to help others.
The other man encountered financial troubles after a divorce. He went from making $6000 a month to eating free breakfasts out of necessity. He also goes back to help now.
It made me sad to see so many people afraid of what I could do to them. Journalism has such a bad rep, but it's for a good reason. So many would sell their own mother out for a front page story. I'm just not willing to do that... I'll be writing the classifieds for life now, won't I?
My family has decided to volunteer with the organization now and donate clothing to them.
On Thursday, my group for an assignment decided to go film Make-a-Wish's attempt at the Guinness World Record for the largest human star. We found out it was at Don Mills - an outdoor mall - on the first snowfall of the season. I wore my winter jacket, a scarf and gloves and I was still freezing. We started filming and wanted to get it over with. We soon found out that our camera batteries did too.
When it gets cold, batteries die quick deaths. We went from having completely full batteries to having two empty batteries in minutes. We shoved those freezing batteries in between our scarves and necks and we put them in our mittens and pockets to no avail. They regained a bar or two, but those quickly disappeared. We had no choice but to accept defeat. We're finding something indoors instead. Curse you, school cameras.
Monday was surprisingly amazing. Because I did my story on Martin Lindstrom's appearance at Humber, I was able to go to the event. Lindstrom was appearing twice - once in the morning and once in the evening. I was in class for the first presentation, so I asked to go to the second. I didn't realize that the morning meet was for students and instructors and the evening show was for the top people at Humber and Humber's affiliates. I went to the area where Lindstrom would speak to find a bunch of people in suits. Needless to say, the sweaters, skinny jeans and skate shoes my sister and I wore stood out a bit. I got nervous and uncomfortable, but proceeded with the knowledge that it would be one kickass presentation.
We (this also includes my father) tried to fit in, but just couldn't quite get it right. One woman (in charge of continuing education) came up and introduced herself. She was so nice and I thank her for putting up with our awkwardness. I told her I wrote the story in the paper and she asked if I had read any of Lindstrom's books. I looked like a moron when I said I hadn't, but she proceeded to give me her personal copy of a book. Did I say she was nice?
While we talked, culinary students walked around, offering hors d'oeuvres and wine.. No joke.
Soon, we were all guided towards the Humber Room. This is a fancy restaurant run by students.
The tables had little flower arrangements and the multiple-utensil set-up. I always remember Titanic in these situations - Molly Brown's advice to Jack about working your way in towards the plate has helped me get far in life.
We started eating the fancy little salad (cheese, watermelon, various greens and cucumber) after we were told to dig in.
I'm a vegetarian, so the next course consisted of polenta fries, seasonal vegetables (you know a place is fancy when they say "seasonal"), and zucchini stuffed with cous cous.
The dessert made every bit of awkwardness worthwhile. We ate brownies with whipped cream and crab apple filling. There was even one of those lemon smears underneath it all. I had to keep myself from licking the plate.
Can you tell how much I like food? Anyways, Lindstrom did the presentation after we ate. It was fascinating. If you ever have the chance to see this man live, do it! The information and research he did was so interesting and entertaining. My dad, sister and I don't agree on anything, but we agreed on this presentation.
When he finished (he went over the time allotted, but no one seemed to care), we were told there were gift bags for us at the door. Gift bags!
I figured there would be a few clippings of Lindstrom's New York Times pieces when the speaker said they included samples of his publications. Of course not. The gift bags held Buyology and Brandwashed - Lindstrom's incredibly popular, $20-something, one-of-them-hardcover books. You have no idea how ecstatic I was. Books make me far too happy and these were great ones.
Lololol Those people at the 10 a.m. show have no idea what they missed.
Mingling with Humber's finest was a far cry from Wednesday's happenings. My only class on Wednesday starts at 3:30 p.m., so I decided to work on a project. I went to a breakfast for people who don't have the money to afford food at a local church. I thought I'd see maybe a few people eating their meals, but was surprised to discover there was a basement full of people in need. They looked like everyday people who probably take the bus with me or walk past me on the streets. We've been taught that homeless people all have addictions and clothing with rips and tears. For some reason, I pictured dirty men covered in facial hair. THIS is why I'm doing the assignment. Some of the less fortunate people that come to the breakfast are struggling single mothers, men who've been through bad divorces, people struggling with mental illness, people who've been laid off and people who've come from abuse and broken homes.
Because I was in journalism, equipped with a recorder and a camera in a bag, most of the people didn't want to talk with me. It turned out working for me when one man told me his story of success. He lived on the streets for many, many years, broken by addiction and mental illness. Somehow, he was able to study up on mental illness and overcame it to run for office in the area, write a book and now teach students at various colleges and universities. He still goes back to help others.
The other man encountered financial troubles after a divorce. He went from making $6000 a month to eating free breakfasts out of necessity. He also goes back to help now.
It made me sad to see so many people afraid of what I could do to them. Journalism has such a bad rep, but it's for a good reason. So many would sell their own mother out for a front page story. I'm just not willing to do that... I'll be writing the classifieds for life now, won't I?
My family has decided to volunteer with the organization now and donate clothing to them.
On Thursday, my group for an assignment decided to go film Make-a-Wish's attempt at the Guinness World Record for the largest human star. We found out it was at Don Mills - an outdoor mall - on the first snowfall of the season. I wore my winter jacket, a scarf and gloves and I was still freezing. We started filming and wanted to get it over with. We soon found out that our camera batteries did too.
When it gets cold, batteries die quick deaths. We went from having completely full batteries to having two empty batteries in minutes. We shoved those freezing batteries in between our scarves and necks and we put them in our mittens and pockets to no avail. They regained a bar or two, but those quickly disappeared. We had no choice but to accept defeat. We're finding something indoors instead. Curse you, school cameras.
2011-11-11
Et Cetera
I got the last story published that I needed to pass my class! READ IT HERE
Of course, I'll still try to write stories for future issues of the paper, but this was a weight off my shoulders. This week's story has fallen through, so I'm so happy everything I do from now on is extra.
I don't feel as stressed and I have time to work on my many assignments, due in a few weeks. The stress will return when the due dates approach. Can't wait.
Speaking of which, do any homeless people just happen to be reading my blog.. on the internet.. for which they obviously have a computer?
Of course, I'll still try to write stories for future issues of the paper, but this was a weight off my shoulders. This week's story has fallen through, so I'm so happy everything I do from now on is extra.
I don't feel as stressed and I have time to work on my many assignments, due in a few weeks. The stress will return when the due dates approach. Can't wait.
Speaking of which, do any homeless people just happen to be reading my blog.. on the internet.. for which they obviously have a computer?
2011-11-10
TTC travels
Last Friday, I trekked into Toronto for a TV Broadcast assignment. The TTC is just a whole 'nother level of transit insanity. I should definitely use it more often.
While getting onto a streetcar at Union Station, a class-load of small children got off the vehicle. What crazy teacher thinks "Hm.. I'm going to put the bajillions of small people I look after on a busy streetcar in downtown Toronto. Great idea!"
I would jump off a roof if someone tried to involve me in a plan like that. It doesn't help that young kids are often about as crazy and easy to distract as five hyperactive chihuahuas. And these children weren't even on leashes! In downtown Toronto! Surrounded by people and big, shiny lights!
The moral of this story is that elementary school teachers should be required to undergo psychological testing.
On the subway home, a man came up to my project partner and me. I had seen him approaching others on the subway car, so I knew what he was up to. He had messy dreadlocks, a visibly dirty hoody and a dazed look on his face. I didn't even dare look at his pants or shoes.
He held out a cup and said something to the extent of "Yo, you have change?" Of course, we didn't. I don't mind helping homeless people, but I don't even have a job right now and I'd rather help a charity that will help them for me instead.
This man looked off, but his smell was also hard to bear. There is no exaggeration here when I say the man smelled like he had never even seen a shower on TV, let alone set foot in one. As my partner put it "Oh my God. He smells like 5000 armpits."
Fine. Block your nose for a minute and move on. Nope.
He went to the man across the aisle and asked him the same question. Some change was dropped into the cup. What happens next? The man asked for $50 to get to Ottawa... Uh... What?
I will take you to a store, buy you a bar of soap and pay for you to get into a public pool shower room. Let's do this thing.
After he walked back to the other side of the subway car, his stench lingered. It stayed in the air for THE ENTIRE RIDE BACK. We got off at least four or five stops after this man approached us and he exited a few stops before we did. When I think about it, the smell comes back to my nose. It was one of those horrific, life-changing experiences that will never go away. I shall forever be haunted.
While getting onto a streetcar at Union Station, a class-load of small children got off the vehicle. What crazy teacher thinks "Hm.. I'm going to put the bajillions of small people I look after on a busy streetcar in downtown Toronto. Great idea!"
I would jump off a roof if someone tried to involve me in a plan like that. It doesn't help that young kids are often about as crazy and easy to distract as five hyperactive chihuahuas. And these children weren't even on leashes! In downtown Toronto! Surrounded by people and big, shiny lights!
The moral of this story is that elementary school teachers should be required to undergo psychological testing.
On the subway home, a man came up to my project partner and me. I had seen him approaching others on the subway car, so I knew what he was up to. He had messy dreadlocks, a visibly dirty hoody and a dazed look on his face. I didn't even dare look at his pants or shoes.
He held out a cup and said something to the extent of "Yo, you have change?" Of course, we didn't. I don't mind helping homeless people, but I don't even have a job right now and I'd rather help a charity that will help them for me instead.
This man looked off, but his smell was also hard to bear. There is no exaggeration here when I say the man smelled like he had never even seen a shower on TV, let alone set foot in one. As my partner put it "Oh my God. He smells like 5000 armpits."
Fine. Block your nose for a minute and move on. Nope.
He went to the man across the aisle and asked him the same question. Some change was dropped into the cup. What happens next? The man asked for $50 to get to Ottawa... Uh... What?
I will take you to a store, buy you a bar of soap and pay for you to get into a public pool shower room. Let's do this thing.
After he walked back to the other side of the subway car, his stench lingered. It stayed in the air for THE ENTIRE RIDE BACK. We got off at least four or five stops after this man approached us and he exited a few stops before we did. When I think about it, the smell comes back to my nose. It was one of those horrific, life-changing experiences that will never go away. I shall forever be haunted.
2011-11-04
Catchin' Some Zeds
Sleeping on the bus is almost inevitable for me these days. With my busy journalism schedule, I often go to sleep late, toss in bed thinking about interviews and deadlines and wake up early (I'm talking 5 a.m. early).
I have a habit of slumping forward or resting my head on my fist with my elbow on the tiny window ledge. I conk out without even trying and I always seem to wake up to find a new group of people surrounding me. It's a really weird feeling.
Once, I fell asleep while resting on my hand. I was pretty comfy until I heard people talking around me. I started to stir and opened my eyes to see a standing man reaching out to poke me. I took one of my earbuds out of my ear to hear what he wanted. He asked me if I could open the window and it was a pretty cold day. Sure, strange bus man; I'll just stand up to open a window above me for your... comfort? These two huge bags on my lap won't stop me from standing up in a full bus. No worries.
I told him I couldn't stand up and he said it was alright. He got off at the next stop... Whhaaattt? Why did you want me to open the window?! You make no sense, strange bus man.
When I was going home, a male around my age sat down beside me. Not long into the ride, I fell asleep. Instead of leaning against the window ledge, I slumped forward over my bags. I don't know what woke me up, but I opened my eyes to find the guy beside me fast asleep, leaning over into my area. Because I was moved forward, we didn't touch. I'm still going to tell people I slept with a stranger on a crowded bus for the shock factor.
2011-10-31
Fashion Faux Pas
So, as none of you (or should I say "you," since I know my teacher's the only one reading this) know, I graduated from the fashion business program at Humber. Though I dress myself with comfort in mind, I did learn styling, merchandising, colour theory and all that jazz. Because of this, I'm obviously a fashion expert. You must all trust my styling judgement and listen to my ingenious tips.
The bus is a horrible, horrible place for fashion. Some people go too far and some people don't go far enough. Either way, the bus never lets me down when I need to get my critique on.
1. Only a few days ago, I saw a perfectly normal male, from the waist up. He had a slight mohawk (the one where guys have pretty short hair, but they use a slightly closer number on the shaver on the sides of their heads) and a black bomber jacket. Normal, right? He was wearing red flannel pajama pants on the bottom. The PJ bottoms were covered in what looked like superhero sayings ("BOOM" "POW" "ZING") and some character, I think. I squinted and looked around people to try to see what was on the pants to no avail. If only he came a bit closer.
The pattern was busy like the photo, but the pants were red and definitely not Superman.
2. The buses I take are in Brampton. This city has the largest Indian population in Canada according to the most reliable source ever - Wikipedia. For those of you who keep Columbus's INCORRECT assumption going, I mean the real Indians, not natives/aboriginals/first nations people. (Pet peeve. Don't call first nations people Indians. I will hate you, deep down.)
Whenever it rains, older Sikh men (the guys with turbans) have trouble fitting a hood over their religious headgear. I don't know if umbrellas are difficult for them to find, but I've seen a few who have discovered the plastic bag. I'm not kidding... They throw plastic bags over their heads and walk around like bosses. I saw one man who decided a Dollarama shower cap was the best option. This man was sitting on a bus wearing something my 70-something-year-old Oma wears in the shower.
In the winter, scarves come out. I don't know if light, fashionable scarves are "in" during the Indian heat, but as soon as winter scarves pop up, some Indian people don't seem to know what to do with them. I've seen far too many older men with scarves wrapped under their chins and tied tightly on top of their turbans. I've seen women wrap scarves around their heads too. It's called a hat, ladies. I guess the men don't have much of an option.
Note to self: invent earmuffs for men with turbans.
3. There's a girl I've seen a few times waiting for the same bus as I do. She's got an awesome pinup-esque style. She has a great red wool coat, winged eyeliner and short bangs. I thought she was adorable until I sat behind her on the bus. Her dark brown/black hair is dyed. Apparently, she did the dye job herself because she left chunks of dark blonde/orange-y hair at the back of her head. Haven't any of her friends told her?! Poor girl's walking around like her hair's got vitiligo.
4. One woman decided tight white pants were a great idea. WRONG! If you're wearing white pants, make sure they fit you. White can show every lump and bump and I do not want to see any of that, thank you. Also, don't buy a pair that goes up past your belly button unless you're going to wear a shirt that leaves everyone none the wiser.
5. I don't care if something's a fad; it doesn't make it less stupid. Leggings as pants are a no. Jeggings are a hell no. It's called denim. Try it sometime.
DO NOT wear those raccoon tail things. You're a human, not a garbage-digging, plant-killing, cat-fighting, mask-faced creature. Well, I hope not. Don't steal their tails.
DO NOT wear hipster sunglasses on an overcast, rainy day. I'm talking to you, hipster bus boy. His sunglasses had bright blue arms that said "so hip it hurts." No. Just no.
Hair feathers are not cool. They're about as beautiful as that whole 'coon tail hair dying people do/did.
Don't do it.
The bus is a horrible, horrible place for fashion. Some people go too far and some people don't go far enough. Either way, the bus never lets me down when I need to get my critique on.
1. Only a few days ago, I saw a perfectly normal male, from the waist up. He had a slight mohawk (the one where guys have pretty short hair, but they use a slightly closer number on the shaver on the sides of their heads) and a black bomber jacket. Normal, right? He was wearing red flannel pajama pants on the bottom. The PJ bottoms were covered in what looked like superhero sayings ("BOOM" "POW" "ZING") and some character, I think. I squinted and looked around people to try to see what was on the pants to no avail. If only he came a bit closer.
2. The buses I take are in Brampton. This city has the largest Indian population in Canada according to the most reliable source ever - Wikipedia. For those of you who keep Columbus's INCORRECT assumption going, I mean the real Indians, not natives/aboriginals/first nations people. (Pet peeve. Don't call first nations people Indians. I will hate you, deep down.)
Whenever it rains, older Sikh men (the guys with turbans) have trouble fitting a hood over their religious headgear. I don't know if umbrellas are difficult for them to find, but I've seen a few who have discovered the plastic bag. I'm not kidding... They throw plastic bags over their heads and walk around like bosses. I saw one man who decided a Dollarama shower cap was the best option. This man was sitting on a bus wearing something my 70-something-year-old Oma wears in the shower.
In the winter, scarves come out. I don't know if light, fashionable scarves are "in" during the Indian heat, but as soon as winter scarves pop up, some Indian people don't seem to know what to do with them. I've seen far too many older men with scarves wrapped under their chins and tied tightly on top of their turbans. I've seen women wrap scarves around their heads too. It's called a hat, ladies. I guess the men don't have much of an option.
Note to self: invent earmuffs for men with turbans.
3. There's a girl I've seen a few times waiting for the same bus as I do. She's got an awesome pinup-esque style. She has a great red wool coat, winged eyeliner and short bangs. I thought she was adorable until I sat behind her on the bus. Her dark brown/black hair is dyed. Apparently, she did the dye job herself because she left chunks of dark blonde/orange-y hair at the back of her head. Haven't any of her friends told her?! Poor girl's walking around like her hair's got vitiligo.
4. One woman decided tight white pants were a great idea. WRONG! If you're wearing white pants, make sure they fit you. White can show every lump and bump and I do not want to see any of that, thank you. Also, don't buy a pair that goes up past your belly button unless you're going to wear a shirt that leaves everyone none the wiser.
5. I don't care if something's a fad; it doesn't make it less stupid. Leggings as pants are a no. Jeggings are a hell no. It's called denim. Try it sometime.
DO NOT wear those raccoon tail things. You're a human, not a garbage-digging, plant-killing, cat-fighting, mask-faced creature. Well, I hope not. Don't steal their tails.
DO NOT wear hipster sunglasses on an overcast, rainy day. I'm talking to you, hipster bus boy. His sunglasses had bright blue arms that said "so hip it hurts." No. Just no.
Hair feathers are not cool. They're about as beautiful as that whole 'coon tail hair dying people do/did.
Don't do it.
2011-10-28
Rules
Riding the bus is never pleasant. The number of strange people in this blog alone tells you there are definitely some problems with public transit. Because of this, I've come up with a list of bus etiquette. Though it may end up costing me content for this blog, I'm willing to take the chance.
1. Take a shower. This doesn't mean use half a bottle of floral perfume, grandmas; this means jump in the shower and use real soap.
2. Keep the noise down. Don't talk loudly (don't want to hear about your last appointment with the doctor). Don't play your music out loud (no one really likes rap. NO ONE). Don't yell into your phone (technology has improved since the tin can phone). Don't sing along with your music (we can't hear the song and you're not promoting it well).
3. Think about personal space. When you sprawl out in your seat, I have to squish against the wall. This isn't comfortable. Don't sit sideways in the seat with a big backpack on. You're crushing me.
4. No PDA. I'm trying to get home from a busy, stressful day at school; I don't want to watch you people drooling all over each other. I always have an urge to smack both of your heads together and you'd better hope I don't give in to it. Pretty sure you can keep those desires to yourself for a full bus ride.
5. If your stop's coming up soon, take an aisle seat or stand. When you take the wall seat, I have to get up to let you off. This is annoying. Think before you act.
6. No strollers. Buses are not designed for strollers. If you leave your stroller out in the aisle, everyone else will bump into it and wake your baby, making it cry. This just makes every situation worse.
7. Don't dance to your music. We can't hear it. You look stupid.
8. Don't eat foods I will crave when I see them. Self explanatory.
9. Have your change/ticket/pass ready before you get on the bus. Were you never a Boy Scout/Girl Guide? Motto: be prepared.
10. If you don't have a heavy bag or leg problems and you're young, give up your seat. I don't know how many times I've had to stand while carrying a few big, heavy bags. Not only do my bags force me to block the aisle, they also weigh me down. Help a girl out.
1. Take a shower. This doesn't mean use half a bottle of floral perfume, grandmas; this means jump in the shower and use real soap.
2. Keep the noise down. Don't talk loudly (don't want to hear about your last appointment with the doctor). Don't play your music out loud (no one really likes rap. NO ONE). Don't yell into your phone (technology has improved since the tin can phone). Don't sing along with your music (we can't hear the song and you're not promoting it well).
3. Think about personal space. When you sprawl out in your seat, I have to squish against the wall. This isn't comfortable. Don't sit sideways in the seat with a big backpack on. You're crushing me.
4. No PDA. I'm trying to get home from a busy, stressful day at school; I don't want to watch you people drooling all over each other. I always have an urge to smack both of your heads together and you'd better hope I don't give in to it. Pretty sure you can keep those desires to yourself for a full bus ride.
5. If your stop's coming up soon, take an aisle seat or stand. When you take the wall seat, I have to get up to let you off. This is annoying. Think before you act.
6. No strollers. Buses are not designed for strollers. If you leave your stroller out in the aisle, everyone else will bump into it and wake your baby, making it cry. This just makes every situation worse.
7. Don't dance to your music. We can't hear it. You look stupid.
8. Don't eat foods I will crave when I see them. Self explanatory.
9. Have your change/ticket/pass ready before you get on the bus. Were you never a Boy Scout/Girl Guide? Motto: be prepared.
10. If you don't have a heavy bag or leg problems and you're young, give up your seat. I don't know how many times I've had to stand while carrying a few big, heavy bags. Not only do my bags force me to block the aisle, they also weigh me down. Help a girl out.
2011-10-27
Front page!
I got my fifth story published this week. The thing is, IT WAS ON THE FRONT PAGE! I never thought I'd see the day an A&E/Life story would make the cover. I'm so happy and excited.
People are talking about it because the picture the editors chose was one of the creepiest, goriest, more disgusting photos I submitted. Surprisingly, people love it. Mmmm, blood and guts.
Read it HERE
This is the picture:
Too gross? Too gory? It gets people to pick up the paper, so it works, right?
That guy was awesome. He posed for me and waited patiently as I flipped the camera around, getting different angles.
I found him on Facebook and thanked him for getting me the cover. He had posted on the Facebook Toronto Zombie Walk page though; I'm not a complete zombie stalker.
I also helped one of the editors get this video:
I'm that annoying voice that says "guys" far too often than one should when one is interviewing. Thankfully, the editor cut out most of my talking. I do, however, get a few questions in there.
If my Reporting/Editing teacher doesn't give me some sort of good mark for this, I will spend 30 extra minutes cursing her before bedtime. Hell, I have more than enough time on the bus. Do they allow candles and blood markings on buses? Are candles and blood markings a part of cursing others?
Note to self: buy book on black magic, just in case.
People are talking about it because the picture the editors chose was one of the creepiest, goriest, more disgusting photos I submitted. Surprisingly, people love it. Mmmm, blood and guts.
Read it HERE
This is the picture:
Too gross? Too gory? It gets people to pick up the paper, so it works, right?
That guy was awesome. He posed for me and waited patiently as I flipped the camera around, getting different angles.
I found him on Facebook and thanked him for getting me the cover. He had posted on the Facebook Toronto Zombie Walk page though; I'm not a complete zombie stalker.
I also helped one of the editors get this video:
I'm that annoying voice that says "guys" far too often than one should when one is interviewing. Thankfully, the editor cut out most of my talking. I do, however, get a few questions in there.
If my Reporting/Editing teacher doesn't give me some sort of good mark for this, I will spend 30 extra minutes cursing her before bedtime. Hell, I have more than enough time on the bus. Do they allow candles and blood markings on buses? Are candles and blood markings a part of cursing others?
Note to self: buy book on black magic, just in case.
2011-10-26
Bad Note
A while back, I was on the bus home when I noticed a girl near the front pull out some music. I'm sure you're expecting some sort of iPod, but you're completely wrong, of course. This lady whips out either a CD player or a walkman - I can't even remember. Either way, it's outdated and bulky!
That's alright though; if you want to carry CDs around, go for it. Thing is, she didn't stop there. She started singing as loudly as she could.
If she was a good singer, it would have been annoying. Instead, she was rip-your-eardrums-out bad. She sang everything from ballads to top 40 pop songs.
I thought it was a one time thing, but I'm only writing this post because a friend reminded me of the annoying singer.
I really hope she now keeps her singing to the shower.
That's alright though; if you want to carry CDs around, go for it. Thing is, she didn't stop there. She started singing as loudly as she could.
If she was a good singer, it would have been annoying. Instead, she was rip-your-eardrums-out bad. She sang everything from ballads to top 40 pop songs.
I thought it was a one time thing, but I'm only writing this post because a friend reminded me of the annoying singer.
I really hope she now keeps her singing to the shower.
2011-10-22
In Your Head
Since I wrote my last blog, I got two more stories published.
Read them HERE and HERE
This week, I got the best story! I covered the Toronto Zombie Walk, complete with a zombie wedding in front of hundreds, if not thousands, of undead bodies. The bride came out of a coffin with full skeleton makeup, for goodness sake. It was amazing.
Read them HERE and HERE
This week, I got the best story! I covered the Toronto Zombie Walk, complete with a zombie wedding in front of hundreds, if not thousands, of undead bodies. The bride came out of a coffin with full skeleton makeup, for goodness sake. It was amazing.
I was there for about six hours and I felt like the time flew by. I took photos and did interviews on film with an editor. I was so busy, I didn't even realize it was time for the walk to begin. I want to go again next year!
There was a surprising number of small children at the walk. Pretty sure I would have cried had I seen those zombie people when I was that young.
They were far too cute to be scared of.
Not surprisingly, I noticed a few Occupy protester zombies.
Though I didn't see him, there was a Jack Layton zombie too. Far too soon.
I had tons of fun with this story and I hope it also gets published!
2011-10-08
The Sleeper
Journalism has been far too crazy for me to update this blog as often as I'd like to. I fill my BlackBerry's MemoPad with descriptions of people on the buses, but I don't seem to have the time to type it up here. Well, I might, but a girl needs a little sit-on-the-couch-staring-into-space-wishing-journalism-would-just-give-her-a-break-already time.
I keep thinking I should save some of the interesting characters for when there's a lull in crazy bus people, but I don't see that day coming anytime soon.
A few days ago, I was sitting on the bus home. I'm sneaky and I walk a bit farther to go to one of the earlier, less busy stops. Because of this, I almost always get the seat I want. Gives me a sense of victory at the end of a long, boring day at school.
I got the perfect seat - the one right beside the window, across from the back door - and I was getting ready to pull out my iPod and phone and get settled for the ride.
The bus pulled up to the busy stop and a wave of people rushed in.
One of the first guys on the bus has his pick of seats, but, of course, he decided to sit right next to me. Why do people do this? If I had a choice, I'd sit by myself.
He had a ponytail and the same getup as unicorn tattoo man - black jeans, black top, black cap.
He turned to me and said "Are you going far?"
I let him know I was going to the end of the bus route and he informed me that he was going to be sleeping.
Why not sit near a window then? I don't understand people.
I keep thinking I should save some of the interesting characters for when there's a lull in crazy bus people, but I don't see that day coming anytime soon.
A few days ago, I was sitting on the bus home. I'm sneaky and I walk a bit farther to go to one of the earlier, less busy stops. Because of this, I almost always get the seat I want. Gives me a sense of victory at the end of a long, boring day at school.
I got the perfect seat - the one right beside the window, across from the back door - and I was getting ready to pull out my iPod and phone and get settled for the ride.
The bus pulled up to the busy stop and a wave of people rushed in.
One of the first guys on the bus has his pick of seats, but, of course, he decided to sit right next to me. Why do people do this? If I had a choice, I'd sit by myself.
He had a ponytail and the same getup as unicorn tattoo man - black jeans, black top, black cap.
He turned to me and said "Are you going far?"
I let him know I was going to the end of the bus route and he informed me that he was going to be sleeping.
Why not sit near a window then? I don't understand people.
2011-10-07
Published Again!
CLICK THIS 'CAUSE I GOT MY STORY PUBLISHED!
That's right; I got my second story published online and in the newspaper. They even added a teaser for my story on the front page. Movin' up in the world.
The problem: the online editors said the picture was by me. IT WAS A COURTESY SHOT, GENIUSES.
I told my editors on Wednesday and they said they'd tell the online editors right away. They still haven't changed it and I don't think they ever will. Pretty sure it doesn't take days to fix a tiny mistake - especially one that could be considered plagiarism.
I definitely will not take the blame for this one.
That's right; I got my second story published online and in the newspaper. They even added a teaser for my story on the front page. Movin' up in the world.
The problem: the online editors said the picture was by me. IT WAS A COURTESY SHOT, GENIUSES.
I told my editors on Wednesday and they said they'd tell the online editors right away. They still haven't changed it and I don't think they ever will. Pretty sure it doesn't take days to fix a tiny mistake - especially one that could be considered plagiarism.
I definitely will not take the blame for this one.
(Photo by Jimmy and Dena Katz - NOT BY ME)
2011-10-04
Published!
So, my first story was published. Yes, my mom took five copies.
Surprisingly, media lawyers do want to talk. I was shocked too! When I let them know I didn't need to interview them anymore 'cause they got back to me too late, they let me add them to my list of contacts. I was surprised. Why do people hate lawyers?
Tomorrow, I get to interview members of the band Anvil. Whaaa? Crazy, I know. I never thought I'd be interviewing people who have actually made a name for themselves. People in the other beats are getting all of these boring people and I'm getting the stars. Awww yeeeaaahhh. A&E ftw.
Wonder who I'll get to interview next!
And no, this doesn't mean J-school's all sunshine and rainbows now. You don't know the half of it.
Don't I just look all professional now? Don't know if anyone outside of the Journalism program and my family read it, but a girl can pretend.
This past week, I interviewed Grammy-winner Maria Schneider. She was so nice and answered all of my questions. Really down to earth!
Tomorrow, I get to interview members of the band Anvil. Whaaa? Crazy, I know. I never thought I'd be interviewing people who have actually made a name for themselves. People in the other beats are getting all of these boring people and I'm getting the stars. Awww yeeeaaahhh. A&E ftw.
Wonder who I'll get to interview next!
And no, this doesn't mean J-school's all sunshine and rainbows now. You don't know the half of it.
Unicorn man is back!
Every Humber girl watches out for the Humber Fire students. We all do it silently, but they know. I swear those program shirts they wear are like magnets for every student with a couple of X-chromosomes.
It's no surprise that when I realized a Humber Fire guy was on the bus today, I didn't look in many other places. *sigh*
Not my fault; it's an instinct.
While I was enjoying the lovely view, the bus pulled up to fire boy's stop. Boo.
I pouted for a bit until I realized that unicorn tattoo man came on at the same stop! He was wearing the same motorcycle shirt and a cap with flames. I hadn't noticed it before, but he may have had a mullet. The hat threw me off, but it's probable. He also had Hell's Angels-esque beard. This man just keeps getting better.
Not only did I see a future fireman and unicorn tattoo man, I also had some celebrity sightings. Well, not really, but these girls sure looked like celebrities. In the morning, I spotted a girl who looked like Saoirse Ronan (that is a seriously hard name to spell) and a Hayley Williams lookalike going home. I wanted to ask for autographs until I realized I had to stop myself from looking like a psycho freak. I settled for staring and squinting like I was part of an old couple sightseeing in L.A.
It's no surprise that when I realized a Humber Fire guy was on the bus today, I didn't look in many other places. *sigh*
Not my fault; it's an instinct.
While I was enjoying the lovely view, the bus pulled up to fire boy's stop. Boo.
I pouted for a bit until I realized that unicorn tattoo man came on at the same stop! He was wearing the same motorcycle shirt and a cap with flames. I hadn't noticed it before, but he may have had a mullet. The hat threw me off, but it's probable. He also had Hell's Angels-esque beard. This man just keeps getting better.
Not only did I see a future fireman and unicorn tattoo man, I also had some celebrity sightings. Well, not really, but these girls sure looked like celebrities. In the morning, I spotted a girl who looked like Saoirse Ronan (that is a seriously hard name to spell) and a Hayley Williams lookalike going home. I wanted to ask for autographs until I realized I had to stop myself from looking like a psycho freak. I settled for staring and squinting like I was part of an old couple sightseeing in L.A.
2011-09-28
Ontario Election
Srs post is srs.
So, I ranted on Facebook after seeing little parts of the political debate between Dalton McGuinty, Tim Hudak and Andrea Horwath, but Facebook isn't as public as this blog.
I'm tired of voters picking the worst possible candidates without taking the future into consideration. This is all in my own opinion, of course. I may be in Journalism, but this is a personal opinion blog. Keep that in mind.
Just so everyone knows: No taxes/lowering taxes = funding cuts to things many people care about.
The first thing to go is, as I understand it, funding for arts programs. My sister and I are artsy people, so this affects us greatly.
Here are my Facebook rants:
"________ __________: can't stand political debates. Feels like I'm watching a bunch of five year olds try to one-up each other and it's not like you learn anything about the platforms. "He sucks." "No, she sucks. I'm the best." "Nu uuhhh."
BTW, Liberal and PC parties try to ignore journalism students. PCs don't have a plan for arts, music, or anything specific to college students. Straight for a PC candidate's mouth to me. You may hate the Liberals after McGuinty, but don't settle for the PC who will more than likely cut funding to the programs that shape creative minds.
I want to know the issues and the platforms in an easy, straightforward way. If platforms were really all that great, politicians wouldn't have to rely on "He just sucks more than I do." Stop pointing out the other candidates' faults and tell me your positives. They want us to choose the lesser of three evils instead of selling us the best platforms. If you ask the politicians themselves, they glorify their own points. It's all so fake and immature."
(I would summarize and rewrite, but I'm too sleepy right now)
When I interviewed a Progressive Conservative candidate, he told me his party had nothing planned for music, nothing planned for the arts in general and simply a plan for more jobs to help college students. The thing is, new jobs would be open for anyone and the fact that so many people have been laid off all over the place means we'll still have to fight for jobs. This summer, I sent out so many resumes (mostly to fashion retail shops), I was an expert at switching up my cover letter. Guess how many interviews/callbacks I received. One! That was at the end of summer too and I have a fashion diploma! I don't know where the PCs are going to magically come up with all of these jobs, but I highly doubt they will greatly affect my life.
Everyone seems to hate McGuinty already, but I'm telling you that Hudak will DEFINITELY NOT BE ANY BETTER.
There are other options. Look into them, please. Voting's easy, but making the right decision isn't always. Our choice as a province will affect us all. Don't figure it out the hard way!
P.S. I'm blaming all of you if Hudak or McGuinty screw with us (anymore).
So, I ranted on Facebook after seeing little parts of the political debate between Dalton McGuinty, Tim Hudak and Andrea Horwath, but Facebook isn't as public as this blog.
I'm tired of voters picking the worst possible candidates without taking the future into consideration. This is all in my own opinion, of course. I may be in Journalism, but this is a personal opinion blog. Keep that in mind.
Just so everyone knows: No taxes/lowering taxes = funding cuts to things many people care about.
The first thing to go is, as I understand it, funding for arts programs. My sister and I are artsy people, so this affects us greatly.
Here are my Facebook rants:
"________ __________: can't stand political debates. Feels like I'm watching a bunch of five year olds try to one-up each other and it's not like you learn anything about the platforms. "He sucks." "No, she sucks. I'm the best." "Nu uuhhh."
BTW, Liberal and PC parties try to ignore journalism students. PCs don't have a plan for arts, music, or anything specific to college students. Straight for a PC candidate's mouth to me. You may hate the Liberals after McGuinty, but don't settle for the PC who will more than likely cut funding to the programs that shape creative minds.
I want to know the issues and the platforms in an easy, straightforward way. If platforms were really all that great, politicians wouldn't have to rely on "He just sucks more than I do." Stop pointing out the other candidates' faults and tell me your positives. They want us to choose the lesser of three evils instead of selling us the best platforms. If you ask the politicians themselves, they glorify their own points. It's all so fake and immature."
(I would summarize and rewrite, but I'm too sleepy right now)
When I interviewed a Progressive Conservative candidate, he told me his party had nothing planned for music, nothing planned for the arts in general and simply a plan for more jobs to help college students. The thing is, new jobs would be open for anyone and the fact that so many people have been laid off all over the place means we'll still have to fight for jobs. This summer, I sent out so many resumes (mostly to fashion retail shops), I was an expert at switching up my cover letter. Guess how many interviews/callbacks I received. One! That was at the end of summer too and I have a fashion diploma! I don't know where the PCs are going to magically come up with all of these jobs, but I highly doubt they will greatly affect my life.
Everyone seems to hate McGuinty already, but I'm telling you that Hudak will DEFINITELY NOT BE ANY BETTER.
There are other options. Look into them, please. Voting's easy, but making the right decision isn't always. Our choice as a province will affect us all. Don't figure it out the hard way!
P.S. I'm blaming all of you if Hudak or McGuinty screw with us (anymore).
Officially published!
I have news.
Ready?
Ready?
Ready?
I'm getting my first story published! It may just be in the school paper, but that paper's sent to three big campuses and a mall. Good for a start! This will probably be available to more people than a tiny town paper.
Though I'm on the Arts and Entertainment beat, my story's being published in the political pull-out section. Yay! I feel special.
My story's about PC candidate Tim Hudak. He used music during his rallies from Canadian bands without asking their permission. I spoke with a media law prof, a music prof and a PC candidate. Though my sources were quite difficult to get ahold of, it all worked out.
My mom has already asked for multiple copies.. Oh, parents..
P.S. I heard a girl on the bus saying she hated another girl because "she has big, creepy eyes." How dare she have big eyes! The nerve!
Ready?
Ready?
Ready?
I'm getting my first story published! It may just be in the school paper, but that paper's sent to three big campuses and a mall. Good for a start! This will probably be available to more people than a tiny town paper.
Though I'm on the Arts and Entertainment beat, my story's being published in the political pull-out section. Yay! I feel special.
My story's about PC candidate Tim Hudak. He used music during his rallies from Canadian bands without asking their permission. I spoke with a media law prof, a music prof and a PC candidate. Though my sources were quite difficult to get ahold of, it all worked out.
My mom has already asked for multiple copies.. Oh, parents..
P.S. I heard a girl on the bus saying she hated another girl because "she has big, creepy eyes." How dare she have big eyes! The nerve!
2011-09-23
Grinds My Gears
Second year journalism is nuts, in case anyone was wondering.
We have seven or so full-time classes and we have to write one article for the paper each week. Doesn't sound too crazy until you realize the sources have to be great ones or they won't be published (and you won't pass).
Instead of just being able to interview students, my story has been all about Tim Hudak and the PC party. My editors want me to talk to people in the PC party close to Tim Hudak and a media lawyer.
1. Lawyers never do anything unless there's money involved, amirite?
2. Politicians don't want to talk to journalists.. ever.. Especially not journalism students. If you do get a Conservative to actually speak with you, it's not like they'll give you much anyways. These people know how to skirt around issues and get out of questions.
Driving me crazy.
I'm going to be pushing for a story closer to home (AKA just the school) next.
Anyone with story ideas relating to the arts should come be my bff ASAP.
We have seven or so full-time classes and we have to write one article for the paper each week. Doesn't sound too crazy until you realize the sources have to be great ones or they won't be published (and you won't pass).
Instead of just being able to interview students, my story has been all about Tim Hudak and the PC party. My editors want me to talk to people in the PC party close to Tim Hudak and a media lawyer.
1. Lawyers never do anything unless there's money involved, amirite?
2. Politicians don't want to talk to journalists.. ever.. Especially not journalism students. If you do get a Conservative to actually speak with you, it's not like they'll give you much anyways. These people know how to skirt around issues and get out of questions.
Driving me crazy.
I'm going to be pushing for a story closer to home (AKA just the school) next.
Anyone with story ideas relating to the arts should come be my bff ASAP.
This week on public transit...
Well, would you look at that. I haven't posted in a good while. Surprise, surprise.
Because I'm so busy/unmotivated to do anything I don't have to right now, I figured I'd combine a week's worth of crazy bus stories into one post. Surprisingly (or not?), there were plenty.
I got on the bus to go home after class and dug around for my iPod right away. I was done with people for the day and wanted to hide in my own little plugged in world for the one and a half to two hour ride. While I was looking down at my purse, a person sat in the seat directly in front of me. They had broad shoulders, a plain, white shirt and short hair. From behind, this person was androgynous, to say the least. Looking at the hair, I decided this person was a male. I started wondering if this guy was attractive (don't hate... I'm single; I can't help it). I decided to look a bit closer. There wasn't any hair/stubble on the section of the jaw I could see.. Many guys can't grow a beard. Suddenly, there was a noise near the back of the bus. The person turns around and, of course, it's a pretty girl. I swear I'm straight.
When I was nearing my bus stop, a man got up to get off a stop or so before mine. He was in his forties or fifties and was going for the tough biker look. You know the one - all black, denim and tees, tattoos, facial hair. His shirt had motorcycles on it and said "Hard and loud. It's a guy thing," for goodness sake. Thing is, if you're going to go for it, go for it. This man got up, using the overhead, horizontal pole to assist him. To my surprise, on his right arm is a tattoo of a unicorn... Let me repeat that: A majestic, in-every-little-girl's-dreams, mystical, fairytale UNICORN.
While waiting for the bus, one young man took out a guitar and started playing and singing out loud. Congrats on being able to play and I'm glad you're having fun singing your little heart out, but I'm not really interested in listening.. Thanks. He wasn't even busking! There was no money, just noise disturbance.
After getting on the bus to go to school, I looked out the window. Standing there was a young man (in his late teens or early twenties, I'd say) with a girl of similar age. Both looked completely normal except for one thing: the guy was holding a big, ratty-looking stuffed animal beaver.. As far as I remember, that was all he had with him. I thought this was just strange and mentioned it to a friend. She told me I had been looking at Mel Gibson.
Because I'm so busy/unmotivated to do anything I don't have to right now, I figured I'd combine a week's worth of crazy bus stories into one post. Surprisingly (or not?), there were plenty.
I got on the bus to go home after class and dug around for my iPod right away. I was done with people for the day and wanted to hide in my own little plugged in world for the one and a half to two hour ride. While I was looking down at my purse, a person sat in the seat directly in front of me. They had broad shoulders, a plain, white shirt and short hair. From behind, this person was androgynous, to say the least. Looking at the hair, I decided this person was a male. I started wondering if this guy was attractive (don't hate... I'm single; I can't help it). I decided to look a bit closer. There wasn't any hair/stubble on the section of the jaw I could see.. Many guys can't grow a beard. Suddenly, there was a noise near the back of the bus. The person turns around and, of course, it's a pretty girl. I swear I'm straight.
When I was nearing my bus stop, a man got up to get off a stop or so before mine. He was in his forties or fifties and was going for the tough biker look. You know the one - all black, denim and tees, tattoos, facial hair. His shirt had motorcycles on it and said "Hard and loud. It's a guy thing," for goodness sake. Thing is, if you're going to go for it, go for it. This man got up, using the overhead, horizontal pole to assist him. To my surprise, on his right arm is a tattoo of a unicorn... Let me repeat that: A majestic, in-every-little-girl's-dreams, mystical, fairytale UNICORN.
While waiting for the bus, one young man took out a guitar and started playing and singing out loud. Congrats on being able to play and I'm glad you're having fun singing your little heart out, but I'm not really interested in listening.. Thanks. He wasn't even busking! There was no money, just noise disturbance.
After getting on the bus to go to school, I looked out the window. Standing there was a young man (in his late teens or early twenties, I'd say) with a girl of similar age. Both looked completely normal except for one thing: the guy was holding a big, ratty-looking stuffed animal beaver.. As far as I remember, that was all he had with him. I thought this was just strange and mentioned it to a friend. She told me I had been looking at Mel Gibson.
(pic from popcrunch.com)
2011-09-15
I feared for my life
One day, I was on my merry way home from school. I took the bus, as usual. I sat in a window seat with my bags on my lap (multiple bags.. my poor legs), as usual. I plugged into my iPod, as usual.
You know what wasn't usual? The man that sat right in front of me.
He was an older gentleman, wearing typical older gentleman clothes - slacks with a tucked-in dress shirt. No big deal. Thing is, he looked like John Waters with a bigger head. 'The Creep' popped into my head.
Whatever.. Benefit of the doubt until he sat down. This man had the strangest crisscross scars all over the back of his head and neck. I felt kind of bad for him because he'd obviously gone through some sort of major surgery.
I'm alright until he pulls out two bottles and consistently takes a swig from one before taking a swig from the other the whole way home. He didn't just drink from one, he drank from both every time. One was clear and the other was dark red, if I remember correctly. They smelled strongly of either medicine or alcohol (I can't really tell the difference.. blech).
He's just slightly strange until he opens his bag on his lap. In the bag is a plastic bag. He starts digging around, then brings his fingers to his mouth, slurping something off of them. He continues to do this and I realize whatever he's slurping up smells pretty gross. After a while, I finally see into his bag. He's slurping SPAM with his fingers out of a grocery bag.. Uhhh... What?
At that point, the story of the crazy guy on a bus comes into my head. One man seemed a bit off to the other bus riders and he ended up decapitating some poor, innocent man. I could picture this little old guy whipping out a samurai sword and swishing it around through my neck before I could even see it coming. Boom, headshot.
I had been giving my friend a play-by-play of the bus ride and she had the same worries. She advised me to move to the back of the bus or get the heck out of there! I didn't take said advise and I'm still alive. Guess all people really are just different.
You know what wasn't usual? The man that sat right in front of me.
He was an older gentleman, wearing typical older gentleman clothes - slacks with a tucked-in dress shirt. No big deal. Thing is, he looked like John Waters with a bigger head. 'The Creep' popped into my head.
Whatever.. Benefit of the doubt until he sat down. This man had the strangest crisscross scars all over the back of his head and neck. I felt kind of bad for him because he'd obviously gone through some sort of major surgery.
I'm alright until he pulls out two bottles and consistently takes a swig from one before taking a swig from the other the whole way home. He didn't just drink from one, he drank from both every time. One was clear and the other was dark red, if I remember correctly. They smelled strongly of either medicine or alcohol (I can't really tell the difference.. blech).
He's just slightly strange until he opens his bag on his lap. In the bag is a plastic bag. He starts digging around, then brings his fingers to his mouth, slurping something off of them. He continues to do this and I realize whatever he's slurping up smells pretty gross. After a while, I finally see into his bag. He's slurping SPAM with his fingers out of a grocery bag.. Uhhh... What?
At that point, the story of the crazy guy on a bus comes into my head. One man seemed a bit off to the other bus riders and he ended up decapitating some poor, innocent man. I could picture this little old guy whipping out a samurai sword and swishing it around through my neck before I could even see it coming. Boom, headshot.
I had been giving my friend a play-by-play of the bus ride and she had the same worries. She advised me to move to the back of the bus or get the heck out of there! I didn't take said advise and I'm still alive. Guess all people really are just different.
Guess who's horrible at keeping up with blogs
I am!
I really need to stick with a blog. Too bad my attention with blogs only tends to last so long. Guess I feel weird talking to myself. SOMEONE LET ME KNOW THIS IS BEING READ!
I've realized reviews may not be the right path for me; I didn't keep up!
I figure a blog where I complain about my middle class woes might be updated more often. Feel sorry for me.
I'm currently in my second year of a journalism program and it is insane. I have eight full-time classes AND I have to write one article for the school paper every week. Sounds easy, right? Wrong. That article requires at least three sources (interviews with people in person or over the phone), eight photos and unbiased facts. Thing is, people take forever to get ahold of and when you do get in contact, many don't know anything or don't want to answer questions.
Why do people hate us journalists? We're just trying to uncover all of your dirty secrets and let anyone with the ability to read know them. Don't hate me 'cause I write.
How do I get to school, you ask? (Okay, you didn't ask and you probably don't care, but you get to know anyways!) I take good ol' public transit for about two hours each way.
Two hours?! Four hours a day?! Yes. Take pity on me.
Though I plug myself into my iPod or catch up on school readings, I keep my eyes (and, unfortunately, nose) open. That is, unless I fall asleep... Unfortunately a common occurrence.
I've seen/smelled/touched-without-permission some of the weirdest people around. I swear all the creepers come out when the buses show up.
I shall share my tales of horror, hilarity and just plain nastiness and you shall enjoy them immensely.. If I actually keep up with this... Oops.
I really need to stick with a blog. Too bad my attention with blogs only tends to last so long. Guess I feel weird talking to myself. SOMEONE LET ME KNOW THIS IS BEING READ!
I've realized reviews may not be the right path for me; I didn't keep up!
I figure a blog where I complain about my middle class woes might be updated more often. Feel sorry for me.
I'm currently in my second year of a journalism program and it is insane. I have eight full-time classes AND I have to write one article for the school paper every week. Sounds easy, right? Wrong. That article requires at least three sources (interviews with people in person or over the phone), eight photos and unbiased facts. Thing is, people take forever to get ahold of and when you do get in contact, many don't know anything or don't want to answer questions.
Why do people hate us journalists? We're just trying to uncover all of your dirty secrets and let anyone with the ability to read know them. Don't hate me 'cause I write.
How do I get to school, you ask? (Okay, you didn't ask and you probably don't care, but you get to know anyways!) I take good ol' public transit for about two hours each way.
Two hours?! Four hours a day?! Yes. Take pity on me.
Though I plug myself into my iPod or catch up on school readings, I keep my eyes (and, unfortunately, nose) open. That is, unless I fall asleep... Unfortunately a common occurrence.
I've seen/smelled/touched-without-permission some of the weirdest people around. I swear all the creepers come out when the buses show up.
I shall share my tales of horror, hilarity and just plain nastiness and you shall enjoy them immensely.. If I actually keep up with this... Oops.
2011-05-08
Tim Hortons' Smoothie
So, I'm not a fan of smoothies. Eating my beverages doesn't really appeal to me, but I'm in love with slushees.
Something about tasty, sugary crushed ice really makes me happy.
I figured I'd try one of the new smoothies at Timmies. Bananas give me tummy aches, so I chose the berry version.
Sooooo good.
It's taken me forever to write this because of school finishing up and whatnot, so I've had many more than one.
I've only ever tried the berry version sans yogurt (hate the stuff) and I love them.
They're like slushees, but they apparently have a full serving of fruit (or something to that extent). Good enough for me.
I'm having my tonsils out this coming Friday (sccaarreeddd), so I have a feeling I'll be living off of these and slushees for about a week.
Looks like spit, but tastes much better, I assure you.
Something about tasty, sugary crushed ice really makes me happy.
I figured I'd try one of the new smoothies at Timmies. Bananas give me tummy aches, so I chose the berry version.
Sooooo good.
It's taken me forever to write this because of school finishing up and whatnot, so I've had many more than one.
I've only ever tried the berry version sans yogurt (hate the stuff) and I love them.
They're like slushees, but they apparently have a full serving of fruit (or something to that extent). Good enough for me.
I'm having my tonsils out this coming Friday (sccaarreeddd), so I have a feeling I'll be living off of these and slushees for about a week.
2011-04-12
Revlon Crazy Shine
I got my ElleCanada today (May 2011 issue) and I flipped through to find many ads and samples. There was a sample for some sort of wrinkle cream and the typical perfume flip-outs, but there was also a little sample in the shape of a teardrop.
Intrigued, I pulled the little package off the page and opened it to take out a little nail buffer. I rubbed it against a nail (rougher side first, then the soft side) and was surprised to find my nail all shiny. It now looks like I have a coat of clear polish on my nails.
It worked.. and was free.. Wha?
I keep moving my nails around, watching the shine mark move around... Mesmerizing. Looking closely though, I should probably fix my nails up and paint them..
Intrigued, I pulled the little package off the page and opened it to take out a little nail buffer. I rubbed it against a nail (rougher side first, then the soft side) and was surprised to find my nail all shiny. It now looks like I have a coat of clear polish on my nails.
It worked.. and was free.. Wha?
The rough side
The softer side
Nails without buffing
Shiny nails
I keep moving my nails around, watching the shine mark move around... Mesmerizing. Looking closely though, I should probably fix my nails up and paint them..
Mariana Montana
Heard of Marianas Trench? Canadian band, becoming pretty big up here, awesome voices? Yeah, well, they're one of my favourite bands.
Mike, Ian, Josh and Matt can all sing and belt out those harmonies like no one's business.
I've seen them 5 or 6 times (since they were at the Reverb). They're the nicest guys around and hilarious to boot. Have you seen Josh Ramsay's Twitter? It's the only Twitter account I'll actually go out of my way to check once in a while. Good for a laugh.
Why am I saying this? Because Josh Ramsay's releasing a song with Emily Osment (of Hannah Montana fame) in a little while! Keep a lookout! Any music from these guys is worth a listen.
Mike, Ian, Josh and Matt can all sing and belt out those harmonies like no one's business.
I've seen them 5 or 6 times (since they were at the Reverb). They're the nicest guys around and hilarious to boot. Have you seen Josh Ramsay's Twitter? It's the only Twitter account I'll actually go out of my way to check once in a while. Good for a laugh.
Why am I saying this? Because Josh Ramsay's releasing a song with Emily Osment (of Hannah Montana fame) in a little while! Keep a lookout! Any music from these guys is worth a listen.
Bie-liebmealone-er
*sigh*
I don't know why I'm acknowledging its existence, but it's time for your typical IhateJustinBieber post.
Sure, we can pretend it doesn't exist and go on with our lives, but it does and it hurts me.
The 'music' sucks, the voice is off and it isn't like there's anything good to look at, but the thing that bugs me is the attitude.
You wanted fame and fortune, but you aren't grateful for any of it. Sure, it probably goes to special publicity events and graciously thanks its fans, but I've heard different stories.
Apparently, it went to a busy mall in Winnipeg ON BOXING DAY... Boxing Day, people. Malls are crazy busy, packed with young girls looking to get a deal on the newest chapstick. The people who told me of this day said it got mad when people asked it for autographs/pictures. Sure, you want you privacy...Don't go to a big mall on Boxing Day! Not that difficult.
I can't stand hearing about all the death threats and such any female who gets close to Biebs/says anything about Biebs receives. You can't like him or hate him or THEY'LL CUT YOU!
Just grinds my gears...
BTW, Julia Nunes put out a new video of a mash-up of Biebs' Baby and The Supremes' Baby. This is the only way I'll listen to Bieber "music."
I don't know why I'm acknowledging its existence, but it's time for your typical IhateJustinBieber post.
Sure, we can pretend it doesn't exist and go on with our lives, but it does and it hurts me.
The 'music' sucks, the voice is off and it isn't like there's anything good to look at, but the thing that bugs me is the attitude.
You wanted fame and fortune, but you aren't grateful for any of it. Sure, it probably goes to special publicity events and graciously thanks its fans, but I've heard different stories.
Apparently, it went to a busy mall in Winnipeg ON BOXING DAY... Boxing Day, people. Malls are crazy busy, packed with young girls looking to get a deal on the newest chapstick. The people who told me of this day said it got mad when people asked it for autographs/pictures. Sure, you want you privacy...Don't go to a big mall on Boxing Day! Not that difficult.
I can't stand hearing about all the death threats and such any female who gets close to Biebs/says anything about Biebs receives. You can't like him or hate him or THEY'LL CUT YOU!
Just grinds my gears...
BTW, Julia Nunes put out a new video of a mash-up of Biebs' Baby and The Supremes' Baby. This is the only way I'll listen to Bieber "music."
2011-04-06
Queue-tube
How in the world do we go on YouTube to check one video and look at the clock to discover that five hours have passed and our eyes have dried out from lack of blinking? ...is that just me? It is? Nevermind then..
"You didn't know about Julia Nunes? /:|" No.. No, I didn't, okay?! I just discovered this girl and fell in love (no homo). She sings harmonies with herself, plays the ukelele (and the Kleenex box and pillow) and she talks about trusting hoes with her grandmother. Need I say more?
Lauren O'Connell has a frickin' awesome voice. I also got her song Levers and Gears stuck in my head. Good sign? Only when it's not an annoyingly overplayed Top 40 song.
Kay, so I've known about Bo fo years now, but how could I not include him in a YouTubeVideosThatILike blog? Exactly. <3 (He's not included in the artistsifoundinoneday group though)
This is where it all started (after the Gregory Brothers, of course). Awesome cover of a hilarious song. So catchy too. I dare you not to fall for this song.
Also:
He uses a gun and knives to make music. A GUN AND KNIVES!
Yesyesyesyesyestakemenow
You're welcome.
TTC = Woe is me
So, I don't live in Toronto, but I've been taking rides with the TTC (Toronto Transit.. commission? council? crap?) lately.
You'd think such a big city would be able to fix things up with transit, but nope. Of course, Toronto elects Ford as mayor too. That'll sure help (if there was an "I'm really stupid with my crossed eyes and tongue sticking out" icon, I'd probably insert it now).
Firstly, how in the world do you read a TTC transfer (from a bus, not a subway station)? Random numbers, letters and symbols. They rip it in a certain spot. Can bus drivers/subway workers even read these things? Every time I hold one up, the TTC workers don't even seem to look at them. What is this nonsense? I bet I could carry the same transfer around for months and not one person would notice. I should do that. Damn you, Toronto. You don't deserve my $3 (Xhowever many rides I take).
Secondly, TTC bus drivers seem to be extra pissy. Yes, many riders are psychotic, prissy prissfaces, or annoying as hell, but I'm not! You didn't even give me a chance to be nice and friendly. I don't even know why I say thanks when getting off buses... Doesn't help anything... I suppose the way I get off through the front doors just cancels out my niceness though... hm..
My last points are for buses all over the place:
Why in the world is the bus you're waiting for always the last one to show up? I could see the 191 everyday, all day, then when I need it, it takes five hours. WHY? When I want the 191, you know that rare 648791 bus is going to come by five times. The transit commissions do it on purpose, I assure you.
This one isn't about the actual buses, but the riders. When someone beside you wants to get off the bus, why in the world would you turn your body into the aisle? They still have to squish their behinds right past your side. Do you want my bag and/or behind to smack your shoulder on the way out? Really? 'Cause I'll do it. You asked for it. Also, when I've contorted the hell outta that row, how am I supposed to walk down the aisle with your gigantic calves blocking my way? Exactly.
I would also really appreciate not having your crotch in my face when you're standing. Stand back, please and thank you.
BTW, I'm listening to Julia Nunes while writing this. Just thought you should all know. I should probably write a rave on the good musicians I've discovered on YouTube (Go away, Biebs. You ruined YouTube, Canada, music and my life).
You'd think such a big city would be able to fix things up with transit, but nope. Of course, Toronto elects Ford as mayor too. That'll sure help (if there was an "I'm really stupid with my crossed eyes and tongue sticking out" icon, I'd probably insert it now).
Firstly, how in the world do you read a TTC transfer (from a bus, not a subway station)? Random numbers, letters and symbols. They rip it in a certain spot. Can bus drivers/subway workers even read these things? Every time I hold one up, the TTC workers don't even seem to look at them. What is this nonsense? I bet I could carry the same transfer around for months and not one person would notice. I should do that. Damn you, Toronto. You don't deserve my $3 (Xhowever many rides I take).
Secondly, TTC bus drivers seem to be extra pissy. Yes, many riders are psychotic, prissy prissfaces, or annoying as hell, but I'm not! You didn't even give me a chance to be nice and friendly. I don't even know why I say thanks when getting off buses... Doesn't help anything... I suppose the way I get off through the front doors just cancels out my niceness though... hm..
My last points are for buses all over the place:
Why in the world is the bus you're waiting for always the last one to show up? I could see the 191 everyday, all day, then when I need it, it takes five hours. WHY? When I want the 191, you know that rare 648791 bus is going to come by five times. The transit commissions do it on purpose, I assure you.
This one isn't about the actual buses, but the riders. When someone beside you wants to get off the bus, why in the world would you turn your body into the aisle? They still have to squish their behinds right past your side. Do you want my bag and/or behind to smack your shoulder on the way out? Really? 'Cause I'll do it. You asked for it. Also, when I've contorted the hell outta that row, how am I supposed to walk down the aisle with your gigantic calves blocking my way? Exactly.
I would also really appreciate not having your crotch in my face when you're standing. Stand back, please and thank you.
BTW, I'm listening to Julia Nunes while writing this. Just thought you should all know. I should probably write a rave on the good musicians I've discovered on YouTube (Go away, Biebs. You ruined YouTube, Canada, music and my life).
2011-03-31
Faux Show
Hi internet,
Faux meats make me a wannabe meat-eater? Wha? (Does that make you think of the Spice Girls? It makes me think of the Spice Girls. Bet Wannabe will be stuck in your head now. Sucka)
I've been told being a vegetarian means I can't crave the taste of meat (if you turn this into something sexual, I swear I'll staple your cornea).
I'm a vegetarian because I love animals, not because I don't enjoy the taste of chicken. I enjoyed eating meat until I put two and two together and realized that chicken breasts had faces.
Every once in a while, I'll get a craving for a McChicken or ribs. Thing is, I still love those little chickens and piggies (when they're breathing). If I can conquer that craving without death and suffering, why wouldn't I?
No, I'm not a fake vegetarian. Not wanting to eat meat doesn't mean I don't want to eat the taste of meat... Does that even make sense? It does. I say so.
In conclusion, IT'S TOFURKEY TIME, BITCHES.
Sarah
Faux meats make me a wannabe meat-eater? Wha? (Does that make you think of the Spice Girls? It makes me think of the Spice Girls. Bet Wannabe will be stuck in your head now. Sucka)
I've been told being a vegetarian means I can't crave the taste of meat (if you turn this into something sexual, I swear I'll staple your cornea).
I'm a vegetarian because I love animals, not because I don't enjoy the taste of chicken. I enjoyed eating meat until I put two and two together and realized that chicken breasts had faces.
Every once in a while, I'll get a craving for a McChicken or ribs. Thing is, I still love those little chickens and piggies (when they're breathing). If I can conquer that craving without death and suffering, why wouldn't I?
No, I'm not a fake vegetarian. Not wanting to eat meat doesn't mean I don't want to eat the taste of meat... Does that even make sense? It does. I say so.
In conclusion, IT'S TOFURKEY TIME, BITCHES.
Sarah
White Chocolate Brownie
Dear. Goodness. Yes. Please. More. Thank you.
As my friend Sara said: "It's one of the seven wonders of your mouth."
We went to Moxie's simply for dessert (though Sara got fries first, of course... What's wrong with you, lady? Didn't save enough room for the brownie).
The brownie was soft with a somewhat crispy top. Tasted like a sugar cookie with ribbons of chocolate.
The ice cream was obviously delicious.
Whipped cream? Do you have to ask?
Chocolate sauce on top... I'm pretty sure I don't even have to say anything else.
As my friend Sara said: "It's one of the seven wonders of your mouth."
We went to Moxie's simply for dessert (though Sara got fries first, of course... What's wrong with you, lady? Didn't save enough room for the brownie).
The brownie was soft with a somewhat crispy top. Tasted like a sugar cookie with ribbons of chocolate.
The ice cream was obviously delicious.
Whipped cream? Do you have to ask?
Chocolate sauce on top... I'm pretty sure I don't even have to say anything else.
Buy me another and I will love you for the rest of time, or at least until we all explode in 2012. Can you imagine everyone in the world exploding? That would probably smell horrible...
MMM BROWNIES.
Room For Legumes
Hi internet,
The name's Sarah. I'm 21, a Canadian journalism student and a huge animal lover. I've been a vegetarian for the last three or four years.
Saying that, I'm not a "PETA freak." Sure, I appreciate PETA's promotion of animal rights awareness and I support some of their campaigns, but I disagree with plenty of things they do.
I'm clarifying because people actually seem to take offence when they find out I stay away from flesh. I'm not out to convert you! I ate meat for 17 or 18 years; I'm not really allowed to judge. No matter how many times you tell me you'll just compensate by eating double your regular amount of meat or that animals are created for our consumption, I won't stop.
As much as I can wish the world would stop killing for 30 minute meals, I know this won't happen. You know what also won't happen again? Beef, chicken, fish, seafood, lamb, rabbit, pork, goose, duck, etc. entering my mouth. Stop bugging me!
Sarah
The name's Sarah. I'm 21, a Canadian journalism student and a huge animal lover. I've been a vegetarian for the last three or four years.
Saying that, I'm not a "PETA freak." Sure, I appreciate PETA's promotion of animal rights awareness and I support some of their campaigns, but I disagree with plenty of things they do.
I'm clarifying because people actually seem to take offence when they find out I stay away from flesh. I'm not out to convert you! I ate meat for 17 or 18 years; I'm not really allowed to judge. No matter how many times you tell me you'll just compensate by eating double your regular amount of meat or that animals are created for our consumption, I won't stop.
As much as I can wish the world would stop killing for 30 minute meals, I know this won't happen. You know what also won't happen again? Beef, chicken, fish, seafood, lamb, rabbit, pork, goose, duck, etc. entering my mouth. Stop bugging me!
Sarah
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