We the media

I've heard a lot of people blame a lot of empty things on "the media" for a long time. Many people make blanket statements that "the media" is ignoring this, or "the media" is spreading propaganda, etc.

Do people realize that "the media" is made up of highly educated professional writers in a newsroom somewhere creating this stuff? I am "a media", but I don't think anyone thinks about the fact that we're actually people behind the newspapers and stories that we create.

Yes, a human being has sat at their desk, done the interviews and patched together quotes and information into that piece you're reading. We take photos and attend press conferences. We work strange hours and agonize over little details you will never, ever even notice.

Did we not show up at your event? Chances are you didn't send us a press release, or you didn't bother to call and let us know it was going on. Is something incorrect in a story? Well maybe that journalist was given misleading information, or they aren't very good etc. But one person's mistakes should not tarnish an entire industry.

This is my artist's interpretation of what "the media" must be:

Watch out bitches, we're coming for you.

Love,
Annalee.

Oh boy....

Last Friday, I had a lengthy day at work, and made a beeline for the front door the second the clock ticked to 5 p.m. I rushed home, let myself lounge on my bed for no more than 15 seconds, before I bounded into the shower.

I hopped out, and put on two songs: Astronautolus – the River, the Woods, and Queen – Who wants to live forever. I quickly dried my hair, fretted over the style and changed it at least three times before I was satisfied, and then moved on to my makeup. I brushed on a shadow and carefully lined my eyes, smudging them in that rockstar way that many girls try and can't do. I have a unique skill at creating the smokey eye.

After all this, I sped out the door, silently acting out Freddie Mercury's heartbreaking cry of "When love must dieeeeee." No one could hit that note like Freddie, and all the crappy reality shows that make amateurs try, need to cease and desist.

I continued on my evening, and finally ended up heading back to my house with a re-useable sack full of wine and vodka, ready to party down the street.

Suddenly, I was struck with a horrific pain in my left eye that crippled me as I was washing my hands in the bathroom. My eye snapped shut, and refused entry to my fingers that blindly stabbed at the source of pain, as my right eye began leaking with what can only be described as sympathy tears.

I cried out for my mother like a toddler who had scraped its knee, and she didn't come. What was she supposed to do about it?

Eventually I developed a plan; I wedged my eye open despite the pain, wiped away the tears soaking my face in freshly-placed mascara and examined the left eye. In it, was a very long, curled up, black hair, that had obviously come off my own head.

I located a piece of the hair that was resting on my face, and pulled what probably amounted to multiple inches of hair out of my eye.

Yuck.

I thought the saga was over. I continued on my night after mopping up the black smudge that unfortunately reminded me of the many times I've been forced to leave my boyfriend at Sky Harbor Airport in Pheonix, Ariz., or at Tampa Bay International, or perhaps Las Vegas.....

Then today, Tuesday, I found myself blinking uncontrollably, as my automatic response tried to correct a desert-like dryness in my left eye. I began to resemble the three-eyed nuclear fish from the Simpsons. I believe his name was Blinky. I blinked all morning, and my co-workers commented on the constant flicking of my eyelashes.

Finally, I escaped at lunchtime, the only thought in my mind was to quench the insatiable thirst that my eye had developed. I picked up some Visine, but laboured in the aisle for awhile. Is it red? Yes. Is it dry? I guess.... Is it cool? No...is it hot? Nooo..... This symptom collection went on for awhile, as I carefully read each and every package of Visine and settled on one that cured redness and dryness, because I couldn't decide which problem was the worst – the redness that made me look like a crack addict halfway through detox, or the dryness that, well, made me look like a crack addict a little further along in detox.

It was all bad.

So, I settled into my car, headed to another store – naturally forgetting about my eye problem – and blinked along until I got back in the car a second time.

Hallelujah! The Visine! I tossed my glasses to the side like a frisbee and began to struggle with the child-proof safety seal for what seemed like a fortnight. Finally like a caveman trying to whittle sticks into fire, I burst open the packaging and hah! I was almost about to feel relief.

I drew back my head, poured in the drops, and blinked through the slight stinging.

Blink. Blink. Blink....ahhhhh.

My eye was finally moisturized. I threw the car into reverse, and was smiling delightedly to myself, when, as I switched into a forward motion, I realized I was blind.

Oh good god, the Visine had rendered me sightless.

I panicked and slammed on the brakes in fear, blocking the parking lot for all the sighted people, as I began to think about my life without sight.

How would I get out of this parking lot? How would I get back to work, or be able to dial my phone (or even find it) for a rescue mission? What about my future? I had planned to join a Zumba class this week – how would I ever Zumba if I couldn't watch my instructor? And what about my boyfriend – he's hot! How would I ever see him again? Would he resort to a life of wearing sweatpants and a strange beard with matching mutton chops if he knows I can't see?

I looked around wildly, testing my vision. My eyes landed on a blurry, black and pink collection of sticks laying haphazardly across what may have been the Visine packaging.

Oh. Wait a minute. That isn't a collection of sticks, it was in fact, my perfectly fine pair of glasses that I am legally required to use while driving (in Alberta, anyway. Apparently B.C. doesn't care if you can see or not. Licenses for all!).

I put them on, and politely pulled out of the parking lot. Disaster averted.

For now, anyway.

Love,

Annalee.

Give it back

Ah, summer time. The season where getting out of town is everyone's goal, and Jasper's streets and hotels swell with an influx of tourists enjoying all the town has to offer.

The same goes for Jasper residents, such as myself. Vacations mean getting out of the Athabasca Valley and out into the world beyond.

I have heard many claims of Jasper being too expensive to travel too. We're compared to Banff and so on, but I stumbled across a new comparison during my summer vacation that kind of put it all into perspective. Is Jasper really that bad compared to the rest of the Canadian tourist market?

I had never been to Vancouver before, except to take the ferry from Tsawwassen to Victoria, and I demanded that this year's Vancouver Island trip take us there. My travelling companion and mother agreed that a night spent there would be fantastic. We got a nice hotel for a reasonable amount of money, found a cheap and delicious in-room meal, and in the morning we discovered a free hot breakfast – this was not your typical continental spread of muffins and old cereal boxes. There were fresh eggs, sausages and french toast and so much more. We left the hotel happy, and early after deciding to ditch our 12 o'clock ferry reservation that set us back by $17. Arriving at the ferry terminal we were near the front for the 10 o'clock. We pulled up to the ticket booth, and were utterly astounded to be slapped with a $77 fare – one way – for two passengers and a small Toyota car.

I hate to be that 23-year-old, but when I was a kid, I remember thinking $50 was too much for the ferry. Now I realize it's a crown corporation with a high-paid CEO that is constantly running into scandals and money problems – forcing the fares to be hiked ever higher. That CEO David Hahn made over $1 million last year – including “performance-based incentives” – to captain a corporation that appears to be in grave danger of running aground.

We paid our $77, because obviously we were ill-equipped to pull a Huckleberry Finn and sail across the Straight of Georgia ourselves -- but we weren't happy about it. Once in Campbell River, our destination, we took Grandma to Quadra Island for a day – which we paid over $30 for a 10 minute ferry ride. Towards the end of our vacation, we heard on the news that BC Ferries will be dropping a few routes due to decreased traffic.

Do they really have to wonder why it's happening? How many families can afford such a trip? Looking on the BC Ferries website, I discovered that for a family of five with a camper trailer and truck totaling 30 feet in length, it would cost $147.75. Then there's the gas to power the truck, the food for three kids, the lure of the video games on the ferry (They had Super Mario Kart in the arcade. Even I had a hard time not blowing all my money on it) and the food they will inevitably need halfway through unless you had the chance to make a lunch before you left for the ferry terminal to catch a 6 a.m. sailing. Once you arrive to your destination, you better hope you have already found a good campground or a cheap hotel. If not, you are at the mercy of last minute hotel finding.

It's just plain expensive to travel now, no matter where you go. When Josh and I drove across the country last year, we had his tiny Kia, packed full of stuff to the roof, and we tented whenever we could, or whenever I was not too lazy to help him set up camp. When we did hotel it, we went cheap. REAL cheap. It was a great way to travel, but it is certainly not feasible for a family. The two of us were just fine, and had a wonderful routine by the end of it; we'd roll in, park, both hop out of the car and start moving. The cooking stuff came out first, and I cooked and prepared dinner while Josh set up the tent.

We work for a living so we can get out on vacations, yet when we do, it's too expensive to truly enjoy yourself. What the hell, tourism industry? You wonder why the economy is affecting you so much, but it's glaringly obvious. Give people their ability to vacation back.

In related news, thanks for stepping down, David Hahn. As I've previously stated here, your resignation was seriously needed -- but quit acting so high and mighty like you are single-handedly saving BC Ferries. You are the one that got them in this situation in the first place.

Love,
Annalee.

Oh the humanity

I had a stupid, sucky dream last night. One where I woke up confused, and then heartbroken all at the same time. Why is my subconscious so mean to me?

The dream was basically just that Josh lived in Jasper. For whatever reason I woke up thinking that he did, and I turned over to discover my empty bed and wondered why I wasn't just staying at his house. Then my brain slowly woke up, and I realized I couldn't stay at his house, because he doesn't have a house and he is actually in Detroit, not Jasper.

Not cool, brain!

Love,
Annalee.

Namey name

I have to question the personality of anyone who can't pronounce my name. It's just so simply – Annalee. It is two of the most common names in the entire English speaking world sandwiched together into one, yet this concept seems to baffle everyone.

I've been misnamed so many times, and it constantly drives me insane. the most common is Annaliese. Who is even named that anymore? The second is Emily. To be honest, I have a cousin named Emily and I have at times been known to respond to it, or nearly respond to it. Then things get a little more bizarre; Daniella, Anna Marie or Maria, Natalie...you name it, I've been called it. I even had someone say to me the other day: "How do you pronounce your name again? It's like Natalia, only with an A?

No, it's not Natalia with an A. It's Anna, and then Lee, and then it's put all together and wrapped up in a nice neat little purple-haired package that doesn't like to be called things like Natalia, Anna Maria or Annaliese.

Get it straight.

The reason why this bothers me so much, is that it shows just how much people don't listen, or don't care, or just how socially unaware they are. I admit, I am terrible with names. As a journalist I do my best to write names down as I meet people, but sometimes I attend an event and meet fifty people before I realize their names have all slipped in one ear and out the other. The way I compensate for this is, by simply not saying people's names unless I'm absolutely sure. Sometimes I'll ask someone else what their name is, or I'll get someone I'm with to introduce themselves to the person (then I will sneakily say "Oh! I'm so sorry, I should have introduced you two!"). The point is, I recognize that people hate being called names that they're not, and I compensate for my terrible memory by not naming names till I'm sure.

So open your ears, people. Don't name people until you know for sure who they are, and just listen when I say mine. It's fairly simple.

Hurrumph.

Love,
Annalee.

Wordle

I created this for my blog today. Very neat! Hope to figure out a way to do a few more,
since I like words and all.

Check out the full photo here.

Eeeek, my foot just passed completely out while figuring out how to post this without screwing with my formatting. Tingle tingle!

Love,
Annalee.

Party Mama

I have a few hours till I have to take off to the Grave Mistakes Show, or maybe not. They are opening. Sigh. I should go soon.

I'm watching this absolutely terrible Party Mamas show, where this sickening woman is planning a $30,000 birthday party for her 9 year old son. I can't believe what people will spend their money on! Give me some of that cheddah! She even has a guy who does up her belt for her, a personal stylist. He put her in jeans, a pink and green argyle shirt and a tacky silver belt. I could have done that shit. Let me be your stylist!

I made myself birthday lasagna today. The recipe is here. I of course added two more cloves of garlic (With my 23rd birthday approaching I have decided the biggest lesson I've learned is that you should never, ever listen to the conservative requests for garlic that recipes encourage. Always triple it, at least), artichokes, a tub of cottage cheese, more mozza and parmesan and scallops. Yummm!!

Anyway, Better go get my shit together and head to work.

Love,
Annalee.

Polish and nature

I thought I pulled a muscle today, while recoiling in fear from a swarming wasp. I was out on the side deck painting my toe nails. It didn't occur to me that nail polish and nature do not go well. I did a less than perfect job, but that's how I roll.

I woke up around 10, and stayed in bed till noon. It was nice to have a day where I had no where to go, no where to be. I felt a bit lost, however. I walked up to the Community Garden, where our remarkable growth has become a bit of a talking point. Everyone can't believe us first time gardeners have like, the best garden. Everything is growing now! We have beans, peas, tons of garlic. The potatoes are growing like crazy. Some people haven't even planted yet! I can't wait to start eating stuff. The lettuce should be first, then maybe those beans. Mmmm, mmm!

Grow like the wind! Little lettuce plants!

After the garden, I set up the basket chair thingy on the deck and listened to some acoustic Against Me while painting my nails. It got chilly, so I went outside and cooked myself a very nutritionless dinner of stuffed cordon bleu chicken breast and Kraft dinner. My roommate poked fun at me, and I shot back that I am extremely poor and rationing food.

I'm looking forward to the summer a lot. Since kayaking with Josh I really want to get into it more. I priced out a new one, they start around $500 -- $700 with a paddle and life jacket and tax. Maybe I can get my hands on a used one, or else just rent this season. Renting is probably the best option for me at this point. Finding a kayaking partner -- now that is the other challenge.

There's another effing mosquito in my room. I chased him out. This is going to be a long and very itchy summer thanks to my landlords. I could really use a freaking screen. Hopefully on payday I can find something at Home Hardware to rig something up.

I covered a gymkhana yesterday in Hinton. It made me miss Blackberry so much. There were some gorgeous paints kicking ass at barrels and pole bending. I always loved pole bending, and so did Blackie.

I'm getting pretty sleepy. Josh was on Skype a few hours ago, he couldn't get to sleep after only getting about seven hours total while in Vegas. Looks like he finally got there, he eventually signed off. I miss him really badly today. Time for bed for me too, now that I'm talking about him sleeping!!

Love,
Annalee.

Heading to the nook

Sigh...I have an afternoon off. Being a workaholic, I always find myself having to do something, anything! To fill the time. So my day has been mapped out. I made an enchilada-like thingy for lunch. Put a deer roast in the slow cooker with mushroom soup, onion soup mix and assorted other ingredients (here, if you want to try it out. It's a great recipe for a deer roast, and it's stuff I usually have lying around the house). Now I'm sitting down to eat, and then I have many, many other plans.

Mostly, they all involve doing anything to avoid cleaning my room, but I just need to do it. I need my stretchy exercise pants cleaned so I can get back to the gym, so I guess I'll at least get that done. I want to make mint Nanaimo bars, and read in the nook on the deck that Jordan created while I was gone. Our comfy chair that I always say is like getting a hug is out on the side deck, along with a few flowers and my strawberry and raspberry plants. The sun is there most of the afternoon. It's a perfect spot.

My beloved strawberries in the nook, growing!

I have no more news, really. I wrote yesterday, but I'm determined to keep this blog going again this time. I'll post my progress on the bars, and maybe some photos and a recipe. Better get to the laundry! I was watching MASH, but they seem to have screwed up and played the same one twice. Stupid History channel.

Love,
Annalee.

Nothing productive

Alright, so I haven't posted since January, and I was informed by my boyfriend that he eagerly checks for a new post every week. A little bit of extra curricular, non-work related writing never hurt anyone -- especially a journalist. I'll do another re-vamp of the blog, and get to it.

So, as per my last, very, very ancient post, I was moving into the Bonhomme Street house. I am in fact all moved in, and I have moved to a new room. This week I got back (at 3 a.m., I will add) on Sunday from a trip to Florida. When I finally put my tired-ass to bed, I got a whopping five or so hours of sleep before my alarm clock didn't go off, and I abruptly woke and stumbled off to work. A few hours later, I noticed I was itchy all over my legs, and discovered I was covered in bug bites. Blast! The little buggers had moved into my room over my vacation through my lack of screened window, and had one of their own. The next night (last night) I got eaten again, and woke up this morning with more bites.

The problem is, I haven't actually seen a single mosquito in here. Usually they buzz around your ear. stay tuned -- I will find the nibbling culprit, and I hope for the love of sweet Jesus that it is just mosquitoes or black flies. Please cross your fingers for me.

As mentioned, I finally made the trip to Florida and met Josh's parents. What a trip. It was so much fun, and I came back looking akin to a Brazilian straight out of the tan both -- only less Brazilian and more a rounder, pasty-white Canadian with a tinge of brown. We kayaked, and rollercoastered, beached and drank many a margarita. The beautiful thing about Florida, is that you can do ABSOLUTELY NOTHING PRODUCTIVE, and still feel like you accomplished a lot. That's what white sand beach towns are all about -- nothing, and it's magnificent. Few things in life could pull me away from the mountains, but I could easily spend the winter months on Anna Maria Island, Florida.

Montu: I conquered that bitch!

Relax. Just do it.

I came back to Canada to discover some very happy plants. My strawberries are blossoming, and turning into little green mounds of future tasty goodness. My community garden plot (planted May 18 with Carrie) is growing like a weed -- only there are no weeds to be found. I pulled out the only strand of pesky crab grass that was taking up space, and accidentally ripped out a bean. It has a little green shoot like an umbilical cord growing up. I squealed and stuffed it back into the ground. Sorry little guy!

It's rained since I was home, but this evening the sun finally came out. I need it to nourish my Floridian tan, but I think I'm fighting a loosing battle. I was never meant to be Snooki Grant, anyway. Jordan made a little reading nook out on the side deck that is calling my name. Since meeting Josh, reading has become a pastime. That's right -- I'm all grown up and reading books!

Right now I'm into The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo. It took me almost an hour to find a proper book in the Tampa airport before my flight. Every book insisted that I would learn a valuable lesson from it, or my life would be dramatically changed. I'm not looking for a preacher in a book -- just something to read. If I needed self help, I'd be in the self-help aisle. What I wanted was a cheesy romance or something that would turn the pages. Luckily I happened on Dragon Tattoo, and read it for hours as I flew.

I borrowed a cheesy romance from Ally for my last trip. I enjoyed the adventure part of it, but then towards the end I suddenly found myself plummeted into Nicholas Sparks' wet dream. I nearly threw up -- twice -- the second time being from that metaphor. Here's an excerpt:

Kate: "Oh Rohan, I'm so in love with you. I can barely stand it."
Rohan: "I know what you mean. It's maddening, isn't it? Is there anyway to ease this feeling?"
Kate: "Yes. You must kiss me. That will help."

Yea, barf. How about I ease the feeling with a fucking chainsaw? Anyway. Adventure, as it pertains to journalists who are far cooler than me even though they're not real, is where my interests in literature are. Glad I discovered that.

Jordan just made some popcorn. There is no food more detrimental to someone trying not to snack at night than popcorn. I suppose without heaps of butter it's not the worst thing in the world that you could eat, but then, who the hell would want it?

Anyway, I have enjoyed my return to blogging. My life is moving forward right now in big ways. I'm exercising, taking more photos, gardening, sleeping like a baby, reading, writing just for fun again, and most of all, I'm smiling.

....and I'm pretty sure this is why.

Love,
Annalee.

Where you want to be

Christmas reminded me just where I want to be in life, and as I sit in Jasper procrastinating, I realize my life is in a bit of a limbo until that place is available to me.

I have stuff piled in my closet that needs to be dealt with, from when Josh and I dumped it here on Dec. 21. It is now Jan. 2, and I am struggling to get myself into it. I have a lot on my mind.

Yea, I bet you'd be putting this off too.

Jasper is beautiful, and I love my job, the people I've met and the picturesque mountains. What I'm reminded of right now, is someone so far away. I feel homesick, even though I'm technically home. I think as soon as I met Josh my home became wherever he is. I have to wait atleast a year to be home. It's a long way to go, but what makes it possible is weeks like Christmas, when we are normal. We go on dates -- normal things -- that other couples get to do, and maybe take for granted. Our favourites are movie dates and going out to dinner. On Christmas morning we worked on --and completed -- a crossword together. How nerdy, right?

We also love to watch our favourite sports, hockey for me and football for him. I don't think Josh is much of a hockey fan, but whenever the IIHF tournament was on, or the Canucks were playing, he was a fan for me. When he was watching football, I asked a million questions and he patiently answered them all. I finally understand football a bit, and while I am still a glaringly obvious Canadian hockey fan, I see why so many people watch football.

The worst part is when we leave one another, and we shift back into long distance. When seeing each other any time soon is really uncertain. We answer questions of "When will you see each other again?" constantly. I really hate when people ask that. I shouldn't -- but right now, I don't know. Being asked when is a grave reminder of how physically far away we are.

But, spending Christmas together was the best way to end my year. This has been a hard 10 and a half months in someways, but they've also been the best of my life. I look forward to reaching a year, then a year and a half, and two and three and 10.....

Love,
Annalee.