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).
2011-09-28
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.
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