If someone were to do a graph, and track my ratio of posts to having a life -- and anyone who would do that would be suffering from even less of a life than I myself am -- I suspect the graph would go like this: active social life, little to no posts. No life, posts every day.

Hmmm... What does that say about my current situation?

Having said that, I'm fairly content with how my life is unfolding at the moment. I seem to be kind of floating along right now, not making any waves. At the point when cruise control become overwhelmingly tedious, I guess I'll have to grab hold of the reins. Wow... Within two sentences, I managed to compare my life to a boat, a car and a horse. It's a wonder anything I write for the paper makes sense.

I managed to get sick last week, so I didn't accomplish all my goals for the week. Having said that, I do think I improved the quality of photographs I was submitting to the paper significantly.

Hmmm... Not much else to say, really. I had some very interesting and witty comments thought up, but I forgot them somewhere along the way. No doubt as soon as I post this blog I'll remember what they were.

Here goes... I leave the witty comment, a la Katie, up to you today.

a web link

Ashley sent me this link last night.

www.freerice.com

Basically, it's a vocabulary test. For every word you get right, 10 grains of rice get donated to someone in a third world country. I keep getting up to 150 grains of rice, and then my vocabulary seems to fly out the window, alas.

Sometimes my life is so exciting it's scary!

...stupid dogs...

Well, the little ankle biters were standing at the door staring at me, so I figured I'd take them out back to their kennel. I've done it before. They all just kind of dart around my ankles and run into the kennel.

Anyhow, one of them. The one whose name may or not be Mia, or Chia, or something like that -- the black and white one -- took off.

The woman I'm staying with often complains about Mia/Chia/black and white dog, but still, in spite of having said, "I wouldn't mind if she just lost herself," I didn't figure she'd be that pleased to find her gone.

So.

I brought the other two back in, and proceded to holler "hey puppy!" for the black and white one to no avail. Finally, I went back inside figuring she's small and has very little hair, so sooner or later she'll get tired of the snow and cold and come home... Hopefully, before her owner does!

On about my fifth trip to the door, sure enough, there she was on the porch shivering and waiting to come in. I opened the door for her, and what's-his-name, the youngest one (Chi Chi, maybe?) took off through the opening. Dammit. Again, who knows where he's gone. Back to hollering "hey puppy!"

...oh, the last dog just came home, so I guess this blog rant is over.

Life in Smithers, take 2

Well, today I just put my third paper to bed. It's hard to believe I've been working at the paper for three weeks now... That means I've been in Smithers for almost a month! Still feels like just yesterday Thom was picking me up at the bus stop and I was hearing smart alecky comments about my lovely Simon Chang coat.

This week, I very nearly reached my story quota... Which means next week I will definitely make, and bypass the quota. Damn straight!

My big problem is pictures, and I don't even know why it's such a big problem. I have an extensive fine arts background, I should be able to snap a good photo, right? Maybe I'm just lazy. Or maybe, I'm just -- as I was once told -- a perfectionist who would rather not do it at all if I can't do it perfectly the first time.

I saw my first moose earlier this week. Actually, this week I saw two! It was very exciting, I assure you. In my time at Banff I saw countless elk, but not one moose. Steve pointed one out, one day while we were on a trail ride, but I was too busy giving my tourist spiel and by the time I looked it was gone, alas.

I am no longer the new reporter at the paper. My position has been supplanted by Mike, whose last name I cannot spell, nor pronounce. He is our new sports reporter and comes to us from Montreal.

Quinn, after a week of dithering (yes, Quinn, I know you read this blog, and yes, I did say dithering) has finally decided he is definitely-probably-almost certainly-yes, for sure leaving town. Which means, since I am taking over his apartment, that when my mother comes at Christmas I will have a place for her to stay!

Some of you might assume Quinn's departure means I will soon be scaling the ranks to senior reporter -- But no, a fellow by the name of Ryan is returning to the paper to take over that position. Ryan seems to be a very nice person, so I will try not to resent him too much.

That's it folks. Nothing more to report.

Oh... I finished knitting the hat. Am not sure I'm satisfied with it. May unravel it and start again.

So... Smithers

No, I don't hate Smithers.

I've been asked if that was what was meant by the title of my last blog entry there: Change is bad, and now for some change.

But no, Smithers is so far just fine.

It seems like a nice little town.

Housing has been a bit of a problem. Smithers is a mining town in the middle of a boom, so there's not much available out there. In fact, that was what my first article for the paper was about.

Anyhow, right now I'm renting a room from a very nice lady named Joan. Joan has three little, yappy chiuahua-type dogs. She works at the local local hospital and is very mellow in that perma-fried former hippy kind of way. I'm renting this room week by week, and plan to move into my fellow reporter Quinn's place when he vacates it sometime next month.

And with that, on to my job.

Right now, the paper's writing staff consists of myself and Quinn. Next week, a new sports reporter from Montreal starts. I've been told I'm the first reporter to not start on the sports beat, a fact I am thankful for.

Once this new guy starts, the paper will be up to full staff (three). Quinn is planning on leaving us for the bright lights of Vancouver sometime next month, whereupon, I suppose, we will be back down to two --- although Todd, the publisher/editor tells me he has a stack of applications on his desk.

Nothing terribly interesting to relate right now. I'm in the process of knitting a hat, bought with yarn from the store nextdoor to the paper, but that's about it.

Oh, and if you want to check out the paper, here's a link: interior-news.com

Change is Bad... And now for some change (aka Yes, Katie finally updated her blog)

Do you remember that Hershey’s commercial with the little boy attending school? The first year, he has a beautiful, soft spoken teacher who you just know smells like freshly baked cookies and gives great hugs. The next year, he walks into the classroom that first day and is greeted by a fire breathing old bat---you know the one. You had her as a teacher at some point, for sure. “CHANGE IS BAD,” the commercial says, and then continues with “Hershey’s, unchanged since blah, blah, blah (I’m no go with dates).

Anyhow, I’ve always kind of agreed with that philosophy. Secretly--and sometimes not so secretly--I consider ‘change for the sake of change’ people to be wingnuts and idiots. I subscribe to the ‘if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it’ theory of life.

A few weeks ago I visited my college town of Woodstock, N.B. Imagine my dismay--nay, my horror--to discover that my beloved Riverside Pub was in the midst of a renovation. Gone, I was told, were the tables decorated with laminated beer caps. Gone was the wooden table that I had chipped the paint off of in the shape of a peacock (the owner of said table did not seem to appreciate my artistry). The bar and eating area were now two separate areas: the restaurant now served by bitchy waitresses instead of the bartender whenever he could spare himself from the bar.

“It’s classy,” I was told.

This change made no sense to me. College students frequent the Riverside because of its close proximity to the school--not because of its ‘class.’ They go because on Thursdays, happy hour offers two for one bar shots. It’s the start of a Thursday night that begins with the consumption of as many doubles as is humanly possible in an hour, followed by stumbling home and continuing to drink for the next several hours, followed by stumbling out to the pool hall later that night for more of the same. All of which, of course, in a time honoured tradition, is followed by stumbling into class Friday morning a little green around the gills, if not still drunk.

I ask you: why would they mess with that?

What, you may ask, is the point of this nostalgic monologue on evil elementary school teachers and the alcoholism of college students?

I guess the point of it all is that I’m a bit of a hypocrite. Yes, change is bad. Except, that is, when I’m the one who has decided to make the change.

When last I updated this blog I was living in Banff, Alberta. Since then, I’ve been home to New Brunswick, have visited my family in Ontario, and am now living in Smithers, B.C.

It was time, I guess, for a change