Life in the G-town

I'm back. And boy, do I have a lot to write about. I don't even know where to start! But, I guess I'll begin where I left off on Thursday. So, the wardrobe issue. I still don't have a good answer. My mom suggests slacks and a blouse, which is great when I'm working in the city, but not quite everyday wear here. My current fix? Jeans and nice sweaters, and a presentable jacket (a fake leather motorcycle jacket, which in itself is pretty darn cool). It's still a problem, though, because some days I feel very young. Some days I look at myself and wonder if I was the one being interviewed, would I take this person seriously? At the same time, I'm a little resistant to changing my look. I like my jacket. I like my (new!) bright pink spring scarf/pashmina. And my pink brimmed hat. It's just scary, because I'm 21, $24,000 in debt, and all I have to make myself seem employable is my credibility and a few months writing experience. Luckily, Helen and Allan seem pretty happy with me, and I'm certainly keeping busy.

I had a great weekend in Halifax, and attempted to relax. I think I may have shopped more than lazed around, but that's theraputic in itself. I went to Starbucks and Orange Julius. I went out for supper with my boyfriend. I shopped at MicMac and Halifax. And I didn't get lost once. OK, well, once, coming back to Halifax from MicMac, but everyone does that. It hardly counts.

Sunday night was back to "the grind." It was kind of a slow news week when I left, which always means a little more work looking for stuff, so you can believe my surprise when I opened my email to find 232 email messages. Yikes. And, me being me, I decided to try to get them all handled that night--i.e. replies, editing, or trashing--so Monday would be easier. I gave up with 50-some left.

So, Monday morning I was exhausted. I stayed up far too late with those blasted emails, and then had trouble sleeping (a weekend in a double bed free of cellar bugs made my return to the single bed that has had a cellar bug on at least one occaision even harder). Plus, I bought the new Shopaholic book (Shopaholic and Baby, for those who care, is not as exciting as previous ones. Shopping for prams is far less satisfying than shopping for Manolo Blahnicks).

So, bright and early, armed with tea, I was back to work facing six blank pages providing that everything went swimmingly with my plans. Yikes.

So, first I was off to take a picture of a giant poinsettia. Now, when you're in j-school, you make fun of the people who gravitate towards animals, giant vegetables, or precocious children. They're generally fluff pieces and there's not always a whole lot to say. Once you've seen one giant pumpkin, or one terrier that knows how to dance, you're pretty much satisfied. But, my life has reached the point that I went looking for a giant plant. It's not cute, it's not edible. Luckily, luck was on my side that day, to be newsworthy things are generally cute or useful, or, my blessing, strange. This plant was massive. I mean like over four feet tall and just as wide massive. So I took some pictures, wrote a little piece about this enormous plant, and was off to the next thing.

As I was struggling to find content (despite a rash of robberies and Ronnie Chisholm's run-in with the media) I heard a fire truck go by. That's right, I was reduced to chasing a fire truck. Worse yet, I was using the paper's truck (which drives a lot differently than my civic!) and almost backed into a fence. With people watching. AND the fire didn't amount to anything even photo-worthy.

Then Canso Council. Always an exciting event (though cookies could help. My mother has accused me of going to meetings just for the food. There's nothing wrong with a cup of tea and a cookie during a long meeting!).

As my stories in this week's paper explain, it was exciting. Discussion ranged from the civic centre (see previous postings on that whole controversy) to the end of Canso as a town to blowing up the Seafreez fish plant. Well, no one said they'd do it, an audience member just said the town might be better off if it happened.

During a break while they were in camera, someone told me they'd read my blog. It still feels strange to have people reading my stuff. I mean, I know I have readers, but it's different to have it interact with my life. Plus, sometimes I feel embarassed about what people who don't know me must think of me from reading my blog. Am I flighty? Crazy? Smart? I have no idea how I come across. And I guess, that's kind of the point.

Another sleepless night, and then into production today. I managed to fill up the paper, but it was a long battle. I wrote my first editorial, so it was a landmark production day. And I'm tired. But, no rest for this weary reporter. It's time to start working on the next one. I think I may sleep all day Saturday, unless a good Easter-related photo opportunity comes my way.

Lessons learned so far this week? Check my email over the weekend. Chasing fire trucks is embarassing, especially when it turns out to be nothing. Trucks do not drive like Honda Civics. I still have a lousy sense of direction, even though I've lived here for a month. Giant plants can be impressive. And going home can sometimes make you miss that special someone even more.