T-dot O-dot
Song: Boy Named Sue
Artist: Johnny Cash
Album: The Legend of Johnny Cash
***Had great four days in Toronto this week. Having only spent a day or two there at a time before this, I was wondering if this time was going as enough to gauge if I could live there or not. As much as I hate to admit it, Toronto is the capital of this country in almost every way that counts. Especially as someone looking for a career in the media, if I want to stay in Canada, there’s really no other place for me to be.
I concluded at the end of the trip that I probably could live there, for a little while at least. I think I could handle finding a small apartment (maybe a roommate), getting a job at a magazine or news website and paying my dues for a couple of years while I move my way up to where I want to be.
Truthfully I don’t really want to leave Ottawa. This is my city, my home. Not counting a few stragglers on the west coast and in England, my entire family in is this city. My parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles and most of my cousins live in or around the Ottawa area. It’s the perfect sized city for me, but there’s just one problem: the claws of the government stretch far an wide in the Nation’s Capital, and unless I get out of here I know I will inevitably fall into their grasp. I can’t work in a box, at least not until I’ve seen the globe ;).
Anyway, here’s a breakdown of the trip (as always, this is done for my own purposes, don’t feel obligated to read my ramblings):
First of all, let me just say that I have fallen head-over-heals for rail travel. From my experiences overseas and through more recent trips to Montreal and Toronto, I've found it to be the most relaxing way to travel, and SO much less hectic and stuffy than the bus. No more Greyhound me, I’m a VIA girl now!!
It was a fantastic ride, with the exception of one snag: I was listening to my iPod and as soon as I heard the word "Toronto" I got off the train. I noticed almost immediately that I wasn't at Union Station, and phoned my brother, who quickly informed me that I was most likely in Scarborough. Oops. It was 11:00 p.m. so instead of GO Training it he came and got me. The 20 minute wait outside the station was not fun. Some guy asked me if I had a cigarette. I said no. Then he asked me if I had any Valium. I thought about it, and then said no (and then promptly went back inside the station where I began a very indepth conversation with the VIA Rail attendant until my brother arrived)
O_o
Saturday was good. I met up with Steph downtown in the early hours of the afternoon. I was sending a package to Lauren and she wanted to add something, so we went shopping around for postcards and candy and stuff to fill up the envelope. Since Steph has been in TO for four years now, she knows all the cool funky places to shop, so we had a lot of fun. In the afternoon we met Lina, Scott, Alicia and her sister Sam at the SkyDome. Lina had scored $11 tickets to the Jays/Yankees game so we headed up to the nosebleeds to watch the game. The Jays lost but it was a great game. The place was full to capacity, and there were a couple of guys behind us that were two of the FUNNIEST hecklers I've ever heard. We were all in stitches for the entire game.
After that my brother met up with us for some dinner downtown at the nice restaurant near St. Lawrence Market. Alicia and her sister live on the backside of Mississauga so they had to leave right after dinner to catch the last GO Train home. Steph had to leave shortly thereafter too, so Lina, Scott, Adam and myself headed back to midtown (Adam's end of the city) and hit a bar on Young Street until it closed. Lina and Scott cabbed it back to North York and Adam and I staggered home.
Sunday Adam and I slept in a bit, then we headed back downtown to visit a childhood friend of ours. When we lived in Metcalfe, the Welds lived around the corner from us. They had a daughter (Kristina) my age, and a son (Ben) Adam's age. Their mom (Kathy) and my mom were best friends when we were growing up, so our families spent a lot of time together. Mom and Kathy still see each other all the time, but Adam and I haven't seen Kris and Ben forEVER. Anyway, Ben moved to TO about five years ago, so I grabbed his address from mom before I left, and Sunday afternoon Adam and I showed up on his doorstep with a case of beer! Ben now works as a stock broker on Bay St. and lives in this uber-swanky apt. on King. We spent the afternoon there visiting and catching up. Way cool. After that we met Steph again for a sushi dinner, followed by beer with one of Adam's buddies who was also in town for the weekend.
Monday I was a lazy-arse. Woke up at 1:00, showered somewhere around 4:00, and went to the mall near Adam's place to get some errands done while Adam worked. I met Lina and Scott at the subway station and Adam drove us out to the concert from there. We had SUCH a good time at the concert. I tell ya anyone who wants to go to Toronto to hit up the Molson Amphitheatre I am IN. It was a BLAST and both bands were in top form. The four of us sat in our seats for the Goo Goo Dolls, but at the intermission we decided to check out the general admission area behind us. Only slightly further away from the stage, but a MUCH better atmosphere. It was like being at a backyard party, but the band in the background just happens to be the Counting Crows. Muchos awesomeness.
Tuesday, however, was nothing short of hell. Adam being...well...Adam, didn't wake up on time to drive me to the train station, so I had to hoof it with all my bags down to the subway. A feat in itself, but RIGHT before I was about to head out the door, Adam realizes that he was going to give me his passport photos to take home with me to have signed by our family doctor so that he could go to Mexico City next week. Of course he can't find the damn things, so I was sitting in the hallway for a good 25 minutes while he got his shit together. Mad dash to the train station (yea, after all that he STILL didn't drive me!!), got to Union with about 3 minutes to go. However, since I had come in through Scarborough, I had no idea where I needed to go for VIA Rail. I got lost, and missed the train by about 30 seconds.
It cost me $20 to change my train ticket to the 3:30 train (mine had left at 12:20), after which I went for a cool-down at the Tim Horton's around the corner. There I made two phone calls: one to my mother, calmly and quietly explaining to her what had happened and that she would have to pick me up at 7:45 instead of 4:30. The second was to Adam and was considerably louder and much more profane. After I hung up on him apparently he got the same treatment from Mom and he finally swallowed his stubborn pride just long enough to call me back and apologize. After my coffee I found a book store close by, bought a Sudoku puzzle book and some pencils and hunkered down in the train station for my train. 30 puzzles later I was home.
Despite the stupidness on the last day, it was a really great trip. The list of people I know in or around the city tends to be growing exponentially, which makes for a full visit when I go there, and also acts as a small comfort, should I decide to take the leap and move. I can’t wait to head back to Toronto… for a trip or for good, who knows?
Holy crap.
I reiterate: Holy crap.
Allan Thomspon emailed me and asked me if I wanted to go to Rwanda in October to write for their national newspaper as an intern for the Rwanda Initiative.
http://www.rwandainitiative.ca/index2.htmlHoly crap.
The internships are open to anyone with a journalism background, and run in two eight-week shifts over the summer. I couldn't afford to go this summer, but after hearing about the adventures two of my fellow j-schoolers had when they went in April, I decided to send Allan an email that sounded sort of like this:
Dear Allan
I want to go to Rwanda can I go to Rwanda what do I have to do to go to Rwanda because I really want to go to Rwanda.
-Megan
I think he got the picture because they're now toying with the idea of extending the internships into the fall (eight weeks stretching from the beginning of October to the end of November), and if the decision goes through I'm apparently on the short list for a placement.
Holy crap.
Check it out!
This is what comes from asking the right questions to the right people ;)
http://www.journalismtraining.co.nz/noted1.html#23
Pirates stole my good movie.
Ok, so I went to see Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man’s Chest.
Now you’d think that a movie with this:
This:
And something as cool as this:
Couldn’t lose.
Yea, you’d be wrong.
It blew. It was the ONE movie I figured they couldn’t screw up, and they managed to do it. And they had it too. You could tell. It was right
there, handed to them on the silver platter that was the original, and they
still blew it.
The whole thing smacked of a fourth place finish in an Olympic figure skating competition: even though all the technical elements were there, the lack of style and creativity was palpable. You could almost see the director sitting in the editing room with a clipboard, watching the final product for the first time:
$40 million dollars worth of special effects – check!
Overly-choreographed sword-fighting scene – check!
Gross-looking undead creatures with crazy powers – check!
Jack Sparrow acting all Keith Richards-like in a way that is odd yet endearing – check!
Female presence that successfully straddles the line between butch and damsel in distress – check!
"Ok folks, lets not busy ourselves with things like plot and proper character development…I think we’re done here."
I mean, there’s using the success of an original masterpiece to get people into the theatres, and then there’s assuming that people will still love the second movie because you’ve used all the same elements with none of the pizzazz! It was simply unacceptable.
Anyway, by all means, go see it if you enjoy the franchise and aren’t expecting much. The action scenes are entertaining enough, and Johnny Depp still pulls off a funny—if not a little
too over-acted—Jack Sparrow.
But ye be warned: the entire movie is a two-hour long segue-way between the original and what is “expected” (and I use that term very loosely now) to be the eye-popping climax of the final instalment. If you’ve still got hope for Pirates of the Caribbean: At World’s End (due out in early 2007), then it’s probably a good idea to take a gander. If not, however, save your money and two hours of your life that could be better spent finding
real treasure: a sequel that actually lives up to the original.
So this is what caring feels like
Ok, I figured out something. I figured out why I’m not stupid, or lazy, or why it seems like everyone else is going after these amazing opportunities and I’m still here, sitting in the same spot, doing the same thing.
It’s not that I don’t want all those things, it’s that I don’t want them bad enough.
See, when I want something bad enough, I can get it. I can get it like nobody’s business.
It just so happens that right now I want New Zealand. I want it more than I think I’ve ever wanted anything, except maybe getting into journalism (which in itself is a case-in-point. I was a B- student before I realised I need an 82% average to get into Carleton. I graduated with an 86%, and four of my top six OACs were over 90).
Dad doesn’t think I’ll be able to save the money. Mom’s worried about me finding a job. They’re both worried about what I’m going to do with my life when I get back. But I’m not worried about any of that.
I started an ING Direct savings account. It’s got over $3000 in there already, with an automatic withdrawal of $500 from my paycheque every week. My boss has insured me that I have this position until the end of the year, should I choose to stay, so the withdrawals should continue for another 24 weeks.
That’s $15,000, Dad. Stick that in your pipe and smoke it.
I decided that I want to work as a journalist while I’m there. I have a degree, I can get a work visa, why the hell should I settle for less just because I don’t come from New Zealand? Screw that.
So I started looking for internships. I found quite a few through these very official-sounding agencies, but they all need “placement fees” of approximately $2000-$3000 a MONTH. What a scam. So I took things into my own hands and sent emails to every senior editor of every newspaper in New Zealand asking if and when I could apply for an internship. I’ve got one lined up already (and they’re paying ME), and two requests to call once I land (the national papers don’t do internships, but they liked my stuff and want to talk about freelancing). I also got an email from the executive director of the New Zealand Journalists Training Association (it’s like the CAJ I think) who was pleased with my interest and is posting my request on the Association’s message board so that editors can get in contact with me.
Booyea.
And my life when I get back? Pssht. I’m still concentrating on
leaving, thank you very much. I have the rest of my life to worry about when I get back (haha, and I mean that sentence in every sense you can take it). It’s not like I’m one for believing in fate or divine plans or any of that mumbo jumbo. When I get back I’ll find something that makes me happy, and if I want it bad enough, I’ll get it. Simple as that.
Long weekend blahs
Bah. Long weekends are a tease. You finish them JUST as your slipping into vacation mode, and before you know it your butt is slapped back down in front of a computer with another four days of monotony to face before you get time off again. It’s just cruel.
The long weekend was basically a bust in the activities department. My Canada Day consisted of Lee and myself being lazy slobs because a bunch of wankers decided to light fireworks on Bronson until 3:00 in the morning. Lee’s new kitten gets up at 7:00 a.m., firecrackers or not, so we were a wee bit tired on Saturday.
Marta and Shawn came up for breakfast and then we just vegged out most of the day. We took a walk down Bank St. in the afternoon to wake us up (and to get Dairy Queen) and check out this AMAZING antique store (Tiffany lamps galore…so gorgeous), but basically my Canada Day was spent on a couch, using all my remaining ounces of energy trying to stay awake (I was in a lose-lose situation because if I went home I’d have to go to dinner at my grandma’s, which I wasn’t too keen on either, so I decided to stick it out at Lee’s).
We watched Monty Python and caught the fireworks from Lee’s balcony. Then I proceeded to walk halfway home in the rain because the buses weren’t coming (they were too busy trying to haul 10,000 people off Parliament Hill, apparently). I walked from Carling and Bronson to Westgate (about an hour) before an 85 finally showed up to drag my soaking wet butt home. It was definitely not one for the books…
Sunday and Monday were much better though. Sunday Adam came and took the four of us out for dinner. We went to the Empire Grill, followed by dessert at Oh So Good. With Adam’s success in his new job, Dad’s birthday, Mom’s new job and my recent graduation all happening in the same month, we finally had a reason to crack the bottle of Dom Perignon champagne my grandfather gave us as a millennium present. We did it all civilized-like with brie and smoked salmon. De-lish!
Monday was also spent with Lee Marta and Shawn, along with John, Lee’s boyfriend, at Arnprior Beach, about a 30-45 minute drive outside of Ottawa. We baked on the beach most of the afternoon, peppered with the odd jump or two in the water for a cool-off. We left JUST as the weather started to turn (ie I closed the car door and it started raining) and spent the remaining hours of the afternoon playing Tri-bond and watching John torture the cat. It was an awesomely relaxing day, and a perfect way to end the weekend.
Song: Boy Named Sue
