2012-04-16

Summer!

Summer's fast approaching and the assignments are easing off. Our edition of Scribe Magazine is coming together so nicely! I really can't wait to have the final copy in my hands.
I ended up interviewing:

  • Micaela Jordan (beauty guru)
  • YouTube behind-the-scenes professionals
  • Stacey Brennan (beauty guru)
  • The creators of the Violent Comedy Show 
  • Hilly and Hannah Hindi of the Hillywood Show
And... wait for it... Harley Morenstein of Epic Meal Time! No big deal.. Just a channel with over 2-million subscribers. 
I had high hopes for the story, but became frustrated when I wasn't getting any replies. With suggestions for some helpful peers, I emailed more people than I'd care to count. The persistence and assistance paid off and I'm really happy with the result. 
Not only am I glad my story turned out well, but my classmates have also created some awesome portfolio pieces. 

The mag should be out next fall/winter. 



Next time, we eat your publication. (EMT reference)

2012-03-13

All work and no play

Ahhhh. So busy with school.
I've been filming, recording, writing and editing my behind off. So much to do with so little time.
I've been writing for a few companies lately. One is unpaid, but I get to do cool things (like go to the ballet!). The other was supposed to be paid, but the company seems to be ignoring me now that I've written some blogs for them. I'm hoping this is a misunderstanding, but I'm not happy about possibly having my work stolen. They didn't even give me a byline when that was part of the deal!
The unpaid position has been great. I love seeing my name up on a website. Here are the stories I've done so far:
Boys Who Say No review
Sleeping Beauty - ballet review

I'm going for an interview this Friday. It's for an unpaid summer internship with Salon Magazine. Unpaid internships are always a bit disappointing (tons of work with an empty bank account), but it would be great to get a behind-the-scenes glance at the world of magazine writing! The most satisfying part of journalism is seeing that byline (and getting free stuff, but we'll pretend it's just the byline).

2012-02-28

Creative writing

Though many of my classmates scoff at our magazine teacher's weekly writing assignments, I secretly can't wait to write them. In a journalism program, creative writing is pretty rare. We're taught to stick to facts and get all of our information from reliable sources. These writing assignments are all about using our own voices and storytelling abilities. They're still true stories, but they aren't exact. I love them!



The most important place I've ever been
     In the summer of 1998, the sun shone over Winnipeg’s farmlands. A strawberry field lay flat, sprinkled with pickers of all ages. A fenced area worked as a makeshift petting zoo – a distraction for small children. As avid animal lovers, my sister and I plucked a few berries before rushing toward the livestock. Though the small goats were amusing, my main focus was the tiny kittens. Only a few weeks old, the felines would purr, cradled like babies in the arms of human kids. Old enough to read, I became excited over the “free kittens” sign. A little grey kitten with white patches on his chest and stomach caught my eye. He was the quietest and cuddliest of them all, but I couldn’t find him when my father surprisingly agreed to my request. While finally settling for a black and white kitten, soon to be named Oreo, I spotted the grey kitten and made the switch. Though I didn’t know it at the time, my beloved Smokey was sick. He would have died without the medical care my family provided him after giving him a home. Instead of being a forgettable loss to the farm, he spent years growing up with me. That was the first time I saved Smokey’s life. I’m glad I visited that Winnipeg strawberry farm because it was the most important place I’ve ever been in my life. 




Love Letter
Dear Anthony,
I was around seven when my parents and your mom brought us to Discovery Zone. I remember the blue slushee and the miniature zipline, the pit of sponge pieces and the tubes echoing the yells of small children. I remember the Men in Black laser game room we were too young to enter. We couldn’t wait to grow up. Though you didn’t know it, the day I met you was the day I developed my first crush.
My parents had to force me to put on my boots and get into the van to go home. I didn’t want to leave. I made such a fuss that I ended up vomiting bright blue slushee all over my stark white boots, staining 
them for good.
I can’t really remember what you looked like, but I remember how I felt. The indoor playground always made me happy, but I felt even more excitement at the sight of you. I followed you around like a puppy. I went through the same tubes and ran down the same halls. I begged for the same blue-raspberry slushee. I pictured us getting married and spending our lives together. It may have been a little dramatic and presumptuous for a second grader, but I did have quite the imagination.
Little did I know the first day we met would also be the last. Your mom called my mom the night it happened. I was on my way to Girl Guides. I had to play games and pretend nothing was wrong, but that wasn’t hard; I didn’t really understand it.
I saw your face on the cover of all of the papers the next day. “Winnipeg boy falls through ice, dies.”
When I was finally old enough to realize what had happened, it was too late. You left before we could even test the waters.

2012-02-26

Takes one to know one

Yes, I treat the bus like my own personal zoo. Yes, I point out people's flaws/unique traits. No, it's not always nice.
The thing is, it takes one to know one. I'm not the most normal person in a vehicle either.

I eat raw mushrooms on the bus.
Sometimes, a Jonas Brothers or Hanson song plays a little too loudly on my iPod.
I often fall asleep on the bus. I once woke up to someone trying to lift my backpack beside me. I'm not sure if I snore.
I almost fell over when I was on the bus once. I was seated.
I think I breathe loudly when I can't hear myself.
My glasses fog up when it's cold out. I have to wait until they defog before I can see again. 
I stare at people creepily to write for this blog. 

There are probably far more odd things about my transit-riding self, but I figure that's enough for now. This is why I can write about others; I'm one of them.

2012-02-12

The benefits of journalism

You know how I complain about editing in the basement, taking a bus with strange people and doing tons of assignments? Well, some interviews make it all worth it.

I interviewed Hilly and Hannah Hindi of the popular Hillywood Show on YouTube. I've been a fan for a while, so I was ecstatic when they said I could speak with them.
We spoke for almost 25 minutes about their channel and plans for the future. They were incredibly nice and it was easy to hear the passion they have for what they do. They've worked hard to get their video views.
Can't wait to send them the magazine when it's done!

The latest Hillywood video:

Life in the dungeon

School's gotten busy fast. I always feel like I should be doing some sort of school work and I stress even if I can't do an assignment right away. Because of all of the projects being thrown at me, I practically live in the Humber dungeon. Humber has a dungeon?! Yes. Yes, it does.
The video editing suites are cold, lonely and lit only by fluorescent lights.  A place like that drives people insane. It's no wonder journalism and film students start spinning in chairs, singing and fighting with each other while editing.
People in my program are actually at school today to edit videos. ON A SUNDAY! That's nuts. I'm so glad I finished editing my vids.
Speaking of which:
Humber's Got Talent and Humber's Job Fair

2012-01-25

Food

Leave it to people on the bus to make regular food look gross.
A few days back, a woman beside me decided to eat one of those SnackPack pudding cups. That's not too weird until you realize she didn't have a spoon and proceeded to squish and slurp from the cup. The sugary smell was nauseating too. After finishing the pudding, she pulled out a set of nail clippers and cut her cuticles right there beside me. The bus is not a place to cut your skin, people! I don't want it flinging at me.

Yesterday, the bus started to stink like some sort of sausage or deli meat. The stench filled up the vehicle after a wave of passengers boarded, so I couldn't tell who was to blame. I wasn't even sure if it was from some sort of sandwich or from a person's body/clothing. Either way, it was pretty gross for a vegetarian like me.

A woman sat beside me and pulled out an apple in a bag. I was glad someone was finally eating something healthy and relatively scentless on the bus. The problem? Two of the times she bit the crunchy apple, the apple juice sprayed all over me! The woman didn't even say anything when it was apparent I had been sprayed.

2012-01-13

First week down

The first week of school is over and I already have a filming assignment, a current events test and a bunch of query letters due next week. I'm so not ready to get back into the swing of things yet.

Thankfully, I have Fridays off, so I've been sitting around in my PJs and procrastinating. I thought I'd be all productive today too. Fat chance.

I didn't end up getting the internship I was going for, but I have a feeling I'll be too busy this semester anyways. We'll be making our own magazines and I'm just waiting to find out which position I got. I applied to be a copy editor, InDesign assistant or photo editor. I'm hoping I love what I do because I've wanted to work for a magazine for awhile.

I woke up around noon everyday during the break, but I've been waking up at 5 a.m. for school.

I can't wait for April.

2012-01-06

Crazy food man 2.0

I thought scarred up Spam man was weird, but I managed to take a bus with a guy who could compete.
After the bus I was on left the station, a man near the front pulled out a baby food jar. He opened it up and started digging through it with his fingers. He pulled out chunks of something covered in slime and slurped it back. I was disgusted! I'm all for reusing containers, but at least bring a utensil.
This man's fingers were covered in slime and spit and he proceeded to touch the poles and walls of the bus. This is why you don't touch the poles on a bus, children.
After slurping back his meal, the man waved his hands around and shouted in a different language. He also sniffed his bus transfer sheet.
I have a feeling mental illness played a part in this case and that makes me feel horrible, but it's a bit unnerving.

Also on the bus that day was a girl with the old half black, half blonde hairstyle. 2002 Avril Lavigne called; she wants her hair back.

2012-01-01

2012

Christmas break has been pretty great. I've been spending a lot of time lazing around in PJs, so it's been a far cry from the insanity that was my third semester in the journalism program. I couldn't be any happier.
Class starts up again on the ninth and I'm not looking forward to it. We'll be starting up our magazine and I'm a bit worried about the position that I'll get. I just hope it's something I'll enjoy doing without going nuts.

P.S. I still haven't heard if I've gotten the online internship yet. I'm not getting my hopes up. :(

2011-12-24

Grades.. dun, dun, duuunnn

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!

2011-12-22

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.

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.

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.

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.

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?

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.

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.

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.