Ringette runs in this family’s blood - Canstar

Ringette runs in this family’s blood - Canstar

I Want the Passion Back.

I get it now.

I get why I chose journalism as my major. Tonight I had the pleasure of interviewing an 8th grader named Alana about her love of sports, specifically ringette.

We sat down in Southdale arena for an hour and chatted. Just talked about everything from school to ringette to playing sports against boys.

Her big sister sat beside her mostly silent the entire time Alana spoke to me about playing ringette and what the sport means to her. She's 13 years old and already knows she wants to try out for the Canada winter games in 2015. She's 13 years old and knows that she'll be trying out for a spot on the team against many girls much older than her. She's 13 and knows what she wants.

She's ambitious. I like that. I like that she's not concerned with the politics of everything, she just wants to play the game she loves.

I could see how proud big sister Sarah was. She just watched as Alana told me everything she had to share. Her favorite moments this year so far. How much she enjoys "skating faster than all the boys at the outdoor rink." How she knows that she'll have to start training now if she wants a spot on that team.

And then I saw Sarah's eyes light up a little when Alana referred to her ringette team as a "family."

Sarah and I have played on ringette teams just like that. It's amazing to see relationships like that develop at a younger age than it did when we were in Alana's spot. Sarah still plays the game. In fact, she plays in the National Ringette League. I admire Sarah for sitting back and letting her little sister soak up the glory.

(- my older sister would have NEVER done that)

Even though these sisters have never had the privilege of playing on the same team they still share one thing in common- the love of the game.

I saw the passion and drive in Alana's eyes tonight. She was so happy. And definitely in her element talking about a sport she clearly knows a lot about.

Tonight I had a lightbulb moment. The lightbulb went off when I noticed Alana had stopped paying attention to the voice recorder on the table. She was comfortable and ready to open up to me. If this is what being a journalist is all about then I'm on board.

I'm going to bed with a smile on my face thinking back to being Alana's age and not having a care in the world. I also have a new desire to lace the skates up and get back on the ice. My guess is this will happen over Christmas break. Until then- here's my player card at 11 years old.

Some people were down with IPP.

Bit off more than I can chew. Again.

Deciding to be one of the co-coordinators for this years IPPPs was a ridiculous thing I did last year. I do no applaud my behavior.

I was young and naive way back in March. I clearly wasn't thinking straight. Planning fundraisers and gaining sponsors for these presentations has proved to be very tough for Sam and I.

However. We did it. We made it through our first fundraiser this weekend. Despite the freakin snowstorm we had on Saturday night we had some loyal friends and family show up to our social. We're a quarter of a way to our goal- which is better than nothing.

Now that the first one is done we need to start planning more and more and more.

So I will go to sleep to dream up marvelous schemes of getting money from CEOs and other big wigs.

How can we trick them into loving us?!?

So many questions. So little time. So sleep deprived. So CreComm.

Before I bid adieu I shall leave you with a picture of Sam and I after she stopped freaking out because she thought no one would show up.

It's that time of year again

With this icky wet snow falling tonight a vivid memory flashed through my mind as I stood at the bus stop on Bishop Grandin.

"People need to slow down."

I can't express enough how important it is to be careful when you're on the road-

If you're driving be careful of your surroundings and take it easy. Rushing to get to your destination is not worth putting your life on the line.

If you're the passenger make sure to wear your seatbelt and do your best to not distract your driver.

I know I posted this video last year but the kids involved in this crash were from my hometown. Two kids died. One was my friend and one was my friends older brother.

I want my trips home to be for good reason and not for a double funeral.

I love everyone in my life so be sure to take extra caution as the snow starts to fall because at age 20 I've become too familiar with funerals, and I don't want to bury another friend anytime soon.

Just Slow Down. Please.
Watch the video.

Bisons ready for first playoff tilt in 5 years - Canstar

Bisons ready for first playoff tilt in 5 years - Canstar

Remember walking down the street and knocking on your friend's door?

I had to work Boo at the Zoo this weekend. And last. It was cold out. But that isn't what this blog post is about. This post is about something I said out loud while I was there.

As you know I come from a small town, so naturally I have friends from said town. Now I haven't had the chance to get back home in a while so that means I haven't seen my first friends in a while.

So here I am at Boo at the Zoo freezing my little tush off and I hear,

"Allison? Allison!"

I turn to my left and BAM! Little Tia is standing right there waving and smiling at me. Tia turns 18 on Wednesday do she came into the city for a "real bar experience."

At first I was super excited to see her. I love her, she's like a little sister to me. But then I got mad.

"How come you never told me you were coming in!"

I pretty much scolded the poor kid but my emotions were running high- I was so freakin excited but she caught me off guard and I don't like being surprised.

"I got a new phone so I don't have your number. I couldn't text you."

"You have me on Facebook! Coulda messaged me on there!"

Did I really just say that? Yes I did bout loud. People stared.

Now I'm all for social media, I love it a lot. But sometimes I miss the days when I would tell my friends to "call on me" which meant coming to knock on my door later to see if I could come out and play.

I wonder what life was like for the generations before mine. No Internet. No cellphones. I doubt they could even fathom what an "app" was.

I'm all for moving forward in today's world. Social media is huge. Everything is becoming digital these days. But sometimes I wish I could be that little kid again- when I could hear my mom calling me to come home from a block away because that woman is a powerhouse when it comes to yelling. My curfew was when the street lights came on. And 50 cents was enough for a jumbo freezie at M&Ms convenience store- and a jumbo freezie was enough for both me and my best friend Dillon to share. That would be really hard to believe if you saw him now... A whole box of freezies probably wouldn't fill that kid up.

I used Facebook as a verb. End of story.

These are some pics of me and Dilly over the years. He's my besty.

1000 farewells.

We read 'A Thousand Farewells' by Nahlah Ayed for J class. After reading the book we had a test in class and were set to blog about it. Because I can't think of a creative way to dive into this blog post I'm just going to answer the questions our instructor told us to answer. Brief rundown- Nahlah Ayed lived in Winnipeg before her parents decided to pack the kids up and move back to the Middle East and live in a refugee camp for a few years before moving back to Canada. Later in her life, Nahlah travels back to the Middle East as a journalist and she encounters many horrible things like mass graves and being beaten up in a war zone. This is her recount of these events.

What works?

Nahlah Ayed is amazing at painting visuals in your head. She basically makes you feel like you're right there.

What doesn't work?

I felt there were a lot of points in the book where I had to re-read the same thing a few times until I fully understood what I was reading when it came to deciphering the names. Half the time I wasn't sure if she was talking about a person or a place.

What's missing?

I felt the book was well-rounded enough. I didn't think it was missing anything in particular.

What can journalists learn from this?

They can learn what it's like to be a journalist in a foreign country and that it's not always daisies and rainbows. At one point Nahlah and her crew got attacked and were physically beaten just because they were reporters. You have to be prepared to accept whatever life is going to throw at you whether it's negative or positive when traveling as a journalist and you may actually have to put your life on the line to get the story you're after.

How does it compare to another non-fiction work of your choice in any medium?

I'm not sure I've read a story similar enough to this one to actually compare it. But I do applaud Nahlah for being able to open up and talk about her experiences of living in the Middle East as a child and going back as an adult and the struggles she faced.

How did reading this book affect you?

It definitely opened my eyes to what it's like to travel overseas and try to make your way in a country that doesn't want you there. I've never been a foreigner in my life so I've never experienced what it might be like to feel that way. After reading this book it changed my opinion on pursuing the journalist route. I'm not really sure I want to do it anymore.

No stereotypes here- just stigmas.

I spent my younger years growing up in a small rural community about five hours north(ish) of Winnipeg. Swan River, MB is where I was born and raised for a little bit. I was introduced to aboriginals at this young age and they became a part of my life because a large majority of the people living in Swan River are aboriginal. They were my friends. They were my parents friends. They were the people that I knew. They were just people, the same as me, not different at all.

But when I moved to Winnipeg my eyes were opened to a new form of racism. Not the normal "white people don't like black people" kind of racism I was used to. Winnipeg was bigger than Swan. A lot bigger. My elementary school had more kids in it than there were kids in Swan and the surrounding areas.

This kind of life was so new that it took some time to adjust to. I felt the need to conform to what everyone else was saying. And when you're seven ears old, that seems like the only logical thing to do. So I did. I hung out with the white kids, (even though I was visibly darker than them) and I did white kid things. Which I now realize is not any different than what kids of any other color do. I just felt different playing with these kids than I did back home- with both my white friends and my native friends.

As i got older I realized I felt the most at ease when I'd go back home to visit because I felt as though I would shrug off this fake person I was pretending to be. Everyone loves everyone in Swan. That's just how it is.

In Winnipeg there is such a stigma attached to aboriginals. They aren't treated like everyone else. In my opinion they are treated the worst and I can't seem to understand why. They are people. Real people.

One of my best friends is aboriginal. Swampy Cree in fact. She was born in Norway House, MB. A RESERVE!! Yes. Not just a regular old Indian from the north end. An Indian from a reserve!

Kia Wilson is 19 years old and now attending Brandon University studying physical education. She graduated high school ON TIME and with honors.

How's that for a stereotype?

"I'm going to school to prove it to myself and those people who doubt not only me but all aboriginal people."

Out of Kia's graduating class of 32 kids, only 5 continued on to post secondary education. She knows the rate of post secondary education is low in reserve communities but she doesn't believe that's how it has to be.

"I try to set an example for the younger kids in my community who think they won't amount to anything because that's all they have programmed into their heads by everyone else. "

Kia is a strong woman that believes in herself and what she stands for. Her goal is to destroy the stigma attached to people coming from reserves. But the stigma doesn't just come from outsiders- the city people. It comes from within the community itself. Many communities strive to stick together and be proud of their accomplishment but Kia said sometimes when she goes home the people around her treat her differently because they think she feels above them for continuing education.

"It amazes me that some supposed 'educated' individuals think that all aboriginal people are on welfare or drunks or just stupid. Most people doubted me when they found out I was from a rez because I speak very well and am an excellent student."

Kia is no different than me or you. And the only thing that might actually set her apart from us is that she can speak in her native tongue and live off of the land if she needed to. That doesn't make her a savage. It makes her a well rounded individual who is going places.

What is really wrong with the newspaper though?

This morning in class we offered our opinions on an article that ran in the Free Press this weekend written by a first year.

The article was titled, "what's wrong with the newspaper?" This point of view article was written due to the recent layoffs the Free Press has made.

First of all I applaud Stefanie for taking on this task. Never would I have ever imagined myself writing for the Free Press just weeks into my first year of CreComm. That takes some balls.

Although I'm a firm believer in, "everyone is entitled to their own opinion," and so I do have a slight issue with being spoken for. If I didn't say it, I don't appreciate anyone putting words in my mouth.

Countless times Stef used, "we" in her article and when she included "we" she was talking about the general younger demographic. Me. And my classmates too.

She was right on some points. Our demographic does use social media a little more than our elders, I won't dispute that. What I will dispute is her claiming, "we" don't like to read longer pieces in the newspaper anymore, "we" just want short form, 140 character tweets and stuff like that.

In our discussion as a class there were some of us agreeing, yes we like tweets because a tweet can generally sum up a story, but after realizing what that story was about wouldn't you want to click on that link and read more? In Stefanie's case no. In most of my classmates cases, yes.

We've been told as students since we started this program that "print and journalism are dying," but just because the larger newspaper outlets may need to make some cuts due to social media growing strong doesn't mean "we" should completely disregard the smaller local papers we have around us that produce just as good or even better content than the Free Press or the Sun.

Many of us chose journalism as our major because we have a passion for writing and a strong belief that there's a place for our writing out there. Somewhere.

Please don't assume that us "kids" don't like to read the newspaper just because another "kid" argued her point in a very flowery and effective way. We all feel our own way about news today and how it reaches us so don't categorize us without asking us personally. It's not fair.

So I'm sorry if you agree that journalism is dying- but I don't and if that's the route you want to take than I'll stay on the other side of the road and go my own way.

When the Bombers are duds and the Jets can't fly- we go Fishing.

Five years. I've been working with the Winnipeg Goldeyes for five seasons and they have finally won me a ring.

Me, Laura, Andrew, Janessa.

For the franchise itself, the wait has been 18 years since they last brought home the trophy.

The team was founded in 1994 and that year the Goldeyes won it all. It hasn't been since then that they've been able to do it.

Time and time again we've been favored to win it all and time and time again something has gone wrong and ruined our chances of it happening.

Paige, Me, Laura, Janessa. Standing at the park after the Fish
swept Wichita. We were on cloud 9.

This year my boys went in to playoffs as the underdogs. They barely clinched playoff contention by snagging the wildcard spot. They played Fargo first round and many people had doubts they'd be able to win even one game against the Redhawks- but we swept them.

They defied the odds and took everyone by surprised when they did it a second time against the Wichita Wingnuts. They went a perfect 6-0 in the post season. That is ridic.

As we listened to the third game of the championship series on the radio in my living room, me and the girls came to a conclusion:

"I swear if we don't make the front page of both papers (sun and fp) tomorrow we are marching down there to start a riot."

But it's fair to say that right? When the Bombers lose game after game by ridiculous amounts like 50+ points they make the front page. And even though hockey season won't be with us this year the same could be said about our beloved Jets if that ever happened.

So correct me if I'm wrong- but displaying a losing team on the front page and not displaying a winning team is just stupid.

Yes I said stupid.

Thankfully no riot was needed because my boys were on the front page of both of the papers and on the front pages of the sports section.

Media was in full force at the victory party last night and everyone wanted to get a piece of the glory.

The loyalty and passion behind the team this year was something I haven't seen this strong with this franchise since I've been a part of it.

And finally thanks to their win, they can be recognized as the talented franchise they are. Kinda sad it took this long for the papers to realize that the Fish are a team worth writing about. But all the same, glad to see my boys getting the positive media attention they deserve.

The five year wait was well worth it, just don't want to have to wait that long again.

I'm ok with it happening again next year.

Hats off to the Winnipeg Goldeyes , 2012 American Association Champions.

I've had a taste of what winning is like. And I want more.

Was tonight real life?

"I'm still sweating. Curse you for making me love sports from such a young age! I blame these emotions on you."

This is the text message I sent my dad about 45 minutes after the fish won their first game of the series against Wichita.

Tonight the Winnipeg Goldeyes started off their championship series against the Wichita Wingnuts. Best of five series - game one in the bag.

I paced- literally from the 5th inning till the end of the game, which in the end totaled 10 innings because we'd tied it up in the 8th and couldn't score a runn in the 9th.

The antsy antics I have when watching sports have been inherited from my father. He is the same way. When he coaches hockey he paces on the bench, when he watches at home he sometimes has to leave the room. I'm the same way, it's clear I've been built from the same mold as my dad.

Butterflies were in my stomach all day leading up to the first pitch. And as soon as the 1st inning was underway there was no way I was gonna be feeling any better. The butterflies progressed from a light, nervous feeling in the tummy to a large stomach-sized lump in my throat. At one point I honestly thought I would either throw up or pass out. My stress level was beyond capacity tonight and I was afraid my superstition of wearing the same outfit as I did our last win was not working.

When Canizares connected with the ball in the bottom of the 10th inning tonight there was no doubt that baby was gone as soon as you heard it.

Seriously though, a freakin walk-off homerun? Why do people insist on doing this to me. I nearly died from excitement when that happened. I jumped and cheered and hugged everyone in the tunnel. That moment was more than excitement, happiness, or bliss. That moment was a long time coming.

I seriously can't imagine wanting to be anywhere else than behind this team and I wouldn't have it any other way. You grow to respect these boys not only as fantastic athletes, but as genuine people. They play the game because they love it. And that in itself makes being a part of this franchise so rewarding- knowing everyone that's a part of it is a part of it because they want to be.

This place has become my home and these people have become my family and without my dad instilling such a strong passion for sports in me at a young age I wouldn't be this way.

Most people say you can't choose your family. But I did.

The Fish are in the Finals.

This year the Winnipeg Goldeyes are going to the championship. On Friday night the Goldeyes won their third game in a row against Fargo in the first round of playoffs. It was a 4-1 win and in a best out of five series, that means a sweep.

Shaw Park. This is my home.

As the last two batters of Fargo went up to the plate in the ninth inning the crowd was on their feet. You could feel the suspense in the air, the excitement spilling from everyone in the building every time a strike was thrown.

A pop up was caught and the final out was on the board. Eruption.

And eruption of noise coming from the crowd, the players, and us the office and game day staff. Cheers and tears were about the only thing I could make out for the next fifteen minutes. Everyone was more than overwhelmed with the fact that we'd just swept Fargo considering many people doubted we'd even be able to win one game against them let alone three.

The Winnipeg Goldeyes have had the best attendance in the league for the last three years and if it wasn't for the Winnipeg sun, free press, metro, and other coverage many people wouldn't know about them.

Ace Walker painted this on the field free-hand. He does
a piece every season, he is an unreal artist.

The sold out crowds that keep coming back and packing the house for more independent baseball are all thanks to not only the loyal fan base Winnipeg has- but the journalists that come to every game to produce an interesting story for the next days paper.

Without the journalistic evidence that the Goldeyes are worth watching- I wouldn't have the best job in the world.

Five years working for this franchise and finally we're in the finals. This has been a long time coming. I hope my boys can pull out a championship this year. They deserve it.

"It's a great night in Fort Whyte"

The Fort Whyte byelection took place on Tuesday night and the polls are in - Brian Pallister of the PC Party won, by a "landslide."

There was not much doubt in Fort Whyte that Pallister would win. He had a strong support system at his headquarters and it was quite evident that he was confident he would win when a Pizza Hotline employee showed up with 20+ pizzas well before the polls had even closed.

Leading up to the byelection there had been a lot of attention and focus on Pallister considering he is the replacement of previous Tory leader Hugh McFadyen, and many were curious to hear what he would have to say after McFadyen stepped down after losing last year's provincial election.

The chants began to break out at the headquarters as the votes began to tally up - Pallister was winning, followed by Liberal candidate Bob Axworthy, followed by NDP candidate Brandy Schmidt, followed by Green Party candidate Donnie Benham, and in dead last the one and only Independent Party "MrJetzTV" - Darrell Ackman.

The race stayed fairly the same throughout the night, with Pallister always in the lead ahead of Axworthy and the others. By the end of the night when all the votes were in the totals read as follows:

Brian Pallister - PC - 3626
Bob Axworthy - Liberal - 2074
Brandy Schmidt - NDP - 739
Donnie Benham - Green Party - 113
Darrell Ackman - Independent - a WHOPPING 19.

Why anyone allowed Ackman to run in this thing to start off with is beyond me but I'd rather not get into that because it's neither here nor there...

After waiting what felt like forever for Pallister to finally come into the room and step up to the podium, he did. He was greeted with cheers by his faithful supporters and up to the podium he went without a hesitation.

He dove into his speech starting with, "it's a great night in Fort Whyte," and continued on to quote basically every famous person he could think of - hardly producing his own material. After about the seventh cliche I could barely listen to him talk about nothing important for very much longer and just when I thought my arm would fall off in the scrum - he walked away!

Brian Pallister stood at the podium and talked for seven minutes straight and then ditched the media. Just walked away.
One reporter suggested, "How 'bout a few questions." Pallister replied with ignoring his existence and the rest of us media.
Needless to say none of us were too please when we were told, "he's not talking to media until tomorrow." By his rep Brandy... or Mandy. Something with an "Eeee" at the end.

Overall the atmosphere was quite exciting and positive but considering politics don't excite me in anyway, I was not pleased when I couldn't get a question in - I had such a good one ready to go!

Hopefully that's the last election I have to cover in a while because quite frankly I'm no good at it and I'm even worse at calling in a rant about something I'm not fully educated on. That was a sucky feeling. But you know what a good feeling is? Going to bed. Which is what I'm about to do now.

G'night!

Dionysus in Stony Mountain.

I was in a school musical once. "High School Musical" to be exact. YES, the same High School Musical with Troy Bolton and Sharpay Evans. Disney is cool, don't judge.

I figured after being in a play on stage I could consider myself as a thespian. That is up until as an assignment for CreComm we were told to go watch a play at Theatre Projects Manitoba.

Dionysus in Stony Mountain.

That was the name of the play. So we went. And on the way there I thought to myself, "well I know Stony Mountain is a jail, so I guess this is about like, Greek Gods in jail. Weird." Well I wasn't quite on the right track with that thought. Oh well, it's ok to be wrong. Sometimes.

Dionysus in Stony Mountain is about an inmate that is mentally ill and has recently refused to take his treatment of lithium. His name is James and he killed his wife- by accident. The first half of the play is James recanting long paragraphs from the works of Friedrich Nietzsche, a crazy 19th century philosopher/poet. He paces back and forth reciting these long sentences never missing a beat, all the while his case worker, Heidi sits patiently at her table barely asking any questions, just simply watching James pace back and forth. She occasionally writes down a word or two. I felt the first half of the play was pretty slow and terribly difficult to pay attention to if you aren't a Nietzsche know-it-all. It was kind of like watching a boring version of Shawshank the way James talked and acted the way he did.

The second half got a little better. There was more movement between the two characters except this time the actor that played James was now playing Heidi's uncle- because we find out in the second act that James has killed himself. Apparently Heidi and James have switched mental states and we learn that she too takes lithium regularly because she is bipolar (or manic depressive as she likes to call it.) Heidi and her uncle argue back and forth a bit until he reveals to her that her mother tried committing suicide when she was younger. It brings them together and they end the play off on a good note.

The play was sort of boring for me, just because it was based on a topic I wasn't very interested in. But I was still amazed at how much the actors could memorize and recite back to the audience at such a pace. That was remarkable.

Journey for Justice.

So we had to read Journey for Justice by Mike McIntyre for our Journalism class this semester. It's about "Project Angel" and how it helped break through the Candace Derksen case. This innocent little girl got snatched up on her way home from school and her investigation went unsolved for over 20 years until the evolution of forensics helped solve her murder.

The book itself was a fairly easy read. It gave all of the detail necessary for anyone who hadn't heard of the Candace Derksen case to understand exactly what was going on. However once the part of the book regarding Mark Grant and the psychological evidence they had in his trial the big words seemed to bog it down a little bit. McIntyre included excerpts of psychiatrist's notes and reports in his book for proof of what types of evidence the crown used to prosecute Grant and these excerpts would have been a little more helpful if they weren't so long. After a while of reading a bunch of doctors diagnosing that this guy had many mental illnesses with all of the medical definitions and what not my brain checked out.

It was nice to see how much he included his relationship and interaction with Wilma Derksen in the book. The fact that Candace's mom was all for it (writing of the book) every step of the way was really shown in Journey for Justice.

What amazed me most about the book was not how the case was cracked 26 years later, but how Wilma's unwavering faith kept her alive the whole time. It still blows my mind that this lady has forgiven the man who murdered her innocent little girl and has stopped asking questions. Flabbergasted. Lost for words. Mind. Literally. Blown.

McIntyre and Wilma Derksen came to speak to us after we had all read Journey for Justice in a seminar at school at the end of March. We didn't get much time to ask questions because Mike gave a thorough description of his background and accomplishments which took up about half of the seminar time. By the time Wilma had given us a little bit of her background there was only enough time for about questions, all of which McIntyre took the liberty of answering. Again, very thoroughly.

The seminar was pretty insightful and I'm glad they took the time out of their day to come and speak with us. The only unfortunate part of the seminar was that time was the enemy and we eventually fell as victims to the restraint of it.

So yeah, read the book. It was actually pretty good and not too long. I read it in just over 2 days (while I was at school so you can do it in a day easily!) There are a few typos but McIntyre I'm sure is well aware of them by now and promises to have them fixed up by the next round of printing.

Journey for Justice by Mike McIntyre, CreComm alumni.
Have You Seen Candace? by Wilma Derksen, also a CreComm alumni.

Happy Friday?

Today I woke up and thought to myself, "yes, it's Friday."

And then I thought to myself, "Mitchy always says 'Happy Friday' I miss Mitchy I hope I see him today."
I then went on about a minute later to realize I had a nosebleed.

Not so Happy Friday.

Dad made my tea as I cleaned up my situation before heading to the bus stop. So nice of him.
But I was running out of time. This nosebleed set me back.

My cold came back full force right after that nosebleed. Now I can't breathe so well.

Happy Friday? Sure. Let's stay optimistic Allison, Happy Friday.

I was walking to the bus stop and arrived at the end of my street to turn the corner and continue my journey.

SLIPPED.
My  one foot slid into my other foot and I was airborn for like .5 seconds and landed hard on my hip.
If only I woulda fallen on my booty, I'm sure there is more than enough padding on that thing to make me bounce back up. But nope. Hip bone it is.

Happy Friday? Well it can't get any worse than this right?
Wrong.

Spilled half of my tea from my fall!
Sewer.

I slipped again.
This time after my bus ride so thankfully my hip had a little time to regroup.
Wasn't my hip this time. I slipped forward.

You know when your foot like slides forward so that your knee snaps back the opposite way from which its supposed to bend so all you can picture in your head is that your knee cap is gonna have a bone sticking through it and you're gonna be stuck laying on the ground with a broken leg and no one will be around to help you and to top it all off it freezing as you-know-what outside?
(Yes I just said that all in one breath.)

Yeah, that happened. Sad-grumpy panda Friday.

However despite all of my obstacles in the first hour and a half of me being awake this morning I made it to school on time.

So Happy Friday right?

One would only hope after all of that my day went smoothly.
NOPE.
K-Press put this sister in a group with B-Logs.
SERIOUSLY?
Yeah seriously.

It's ok though, we decided as a group that he'll be the first character killed off in our Radio Drama.

So all in all.

HAPPY FRIDAY!

I Went to WPC. You Have No Excuse.

ALLOWED VS. ALOUD.

If you do not know this difference between these two words... I question your life choices.

YOUR VS. YOU'RE.

Please don't even get me started. Too easy.

THEN VS. THAN.

Just go away.

For Aunt Dorothy.

To think about all of the "what ifs?"
To think about everything that could have been said.
To ask the question why? Over and over again.

To do any of that would be to waste time.

To think about all of the memories.
To think about all of the smiles.
To think about all of the laughter that was shared.

That would be time well-wasted.

Yes you're gone but you're memory still lives on.
To forget anything about you would be nearly impossible.
You're still very much alive in each and everyone of us.

Your presence was a spark that could ignite much more than a single flame, but instead a whole forest fire.

Yesterday we searched for you. Called out your name.
Today we cry for you. Because we are in pain.
Tomorrow we smile for you because we know you are safe.

A heart heavy with the pain of seeing loved-ones so distraught.
Mine.

A heart I know will heal in time.
Mine.

A heart that will always carry your love and one of a kindness.
My stepmother's. Your children. Your friends. Your family. Mine.

You've left a little piece of you in all of us.
We'll make it through.
Just this time it'll have to be without you.

Rest in Paradise. You will forever be loved.

Word on the Street?

Word on da street is dat we be doin' streeters! Fa show.

Yup, CreComm is back in action. Not so bad for our first week back considering we made it through to Friday with no withdrawals (besides partying). So here's the real question we've asked ourselves if it's not "Why didn't I cry?" It's  "What else would we be doing with our first 2 hour J class of the semester other than streeters at 8 am?" Answer: Exactly. Nothing else.

This semester is my first time having Duncan teach me. I was already terrified of him before ever sitting in his classroom. (Have you seen this guy's resume? Pretty impressive. And anyone that can maintain a beard like that has my utmost respect. So an intimidating human being nonetheless.) So I thought I had him all figured out until I walked into the newsroom this morning and was greeted by the "Streeter Look."

What is the Streeter Look might you ask?

It's a look designed to instil panic and fear in any first year CreComm that passes Duncan McMonagle.
It's a cross between a little bratty child scheming and a Dr.Evil sneer. You know he's cooking something up in that brain of his. What he's cooking is Streeters. Streeters in the snow, streeters in the sun, it doesn't matter what the weather is like outside - you're gonna go talk to at least three strangers and you're gonna do it now.

Now I'm pretty sure only Duncan has mastered this look. So don't even attempt it because I'm almost positive he owns copyrights to it or something. CreComm's know everything about "copyright laws and stuff."- Duncan knows more than everything about "copyright laws and stuff."
I'm also pretty sure that he only uses this look on first years.( Just kidding, one can only hope.) Therefore I'm looking forward to next year. If I make it there. Cross your fingers. ( In hopes of no Streeter Looks)

Besides the blowing flurries the assignment wasn't all that bad. At least it wasn't like -15 or something. THAT would suck. Thankfully Duncan gave us a few options to write about. Weather and hockey being two of those options. Can anyone take a stab at what Allison might have chosen to write about?

HOCKEY you say? Me? Noooo.
Just kidding.
Yes I did.
Lucky guess on your part I suppose.

Next blizzard-esque weather we encounter on a Friday morning this semester I will come to school fully prepared to be sent out on to the street by Duncan. The only logical thing we would be doing that morning would be a streeter. Don't worry Duncan, we're on to you here.

Until our next snowstorm, Streeter, until our next snowstorm...