An Interesting Evening...

I seem to be incapable of going a full week without forgetting my flash drive in one of the computers at school. What's worse is that my house and car keys are attached to my flash drive, meaning I not only misplace my schoolwork, but my access to house and vehicle. I am trying to be a proactive student, and backup my work in multiple locations, yet this is the fourth time I have forgotten my flash drive and keys somewhere. What really frustrated me last night, as I realized I had done it again, was that I needed a file saved on the flash drive. This meant I had to drive from home, back to school, in rush hour traffic. I was not impressed.

There were, however, two things that made my hour and a half excursion quite interesting...

1) A man on a unicycle was peddling down the sidewalk on Pembina Highway. In the seven years I have lived in Winnipeg, I have never seen that. And this guy had the biggest smile on his face. He looked like he was having a great time. It made me laugh.

2) I also witnessed a car accident, and was actually able to assist in determining who was at fault. It wasn't anything serious - just one person rear-ending another - but I just happened to turn around in time. The person who was at fault wasn't very excited by my presence, but the person who had been hit was ecstatic. I think that qualifies as a good deed?

Anyways, I was initially very angry at myself for leaving my keys at school. But, on the way home, I felt much more relaxed. It had been a strange adventure, and at the very least, gave me something to blog about.

Paintball on the Prairies

A few people have let me know that they are annoyed with my last post about the Projector story. They are annoyed because they have no intention of travelling to Red River College, and therefore, will not be reading the story. To make everyone happy (and because it's a great space-filler), i am posting my story. This is the unedited version, but here you are...

“Going in, I expected it would be top notch,” commented Eric Sochasky, at the September 12th Splatters Paintball Series tournament. “I had such a good time today that I’m definitely playing next year.” Sochasky played with team Riot, and was one of the 16 teams on the field Saturday. The tournament was one of four held at Splatters this summer. There were three levels of competition; the young guns, for newcomers; the rookies, for mid-skill level players; and the novices, for seasoned tournament players. The 420 Army Assassins prevailed in the novice division, and the 420 Army Alpha took rookie. Poondock Saints won the overall series at the novice level, and the Albino Rhinos took the overall series title for rookie. All teams were primarily from Manitoba, but three additional teams travelled from Ontario to participate.

In Manitoba, and Winnipeg specifically, paintball is a lively industry. Every year, roughly 15 teams from Manitoba play competitively throughout North America. On a recreational level, there are numerous fields open for anyone to check out. Giovanni Spina, co-owner of Canadian Paintball.com, encourages everyone interested in paintball to visit his field and experience the fun firsthand. Watching and asking questions are perfect ways to become immersed in the sport, and networking and enthusiasm are necessary to connect with other players in the province. Sochasky, a five-year veteran of paintball, pointed out that seasoned players are always willing to assist those who want to become involved, whether they want to play recreationally or on a tournament level. “The paintball community is so small here,” he stated, “that everyone is willing to lend a hand and help a newbie out.” Local paintball entrepreneurs also work together to promote the sport and sponsor each others events, as it is important for the industry to grow as a whole.

Evan Schroeder, General Manager of Splatters Paintball.com, began construction of his paintball complex in 2000. He created Splatters as a side business in 2003, and it became his full-time profession in 2007. Schroeder began organizing tournaments in 2005. Giovanni Spina began his paintball business in 1999, when he opened a field just outside Winnipeg. The company became an internet business in 2000. By 2004, 5 pro shops had been opened in Alberta, Manitoba, and Ontario. Spina coordinates and participates in activities at his field, and commented “I’m dedicated to paintball.” A few of Canadian Paintball’s professional teams have included the Youngbloods, CP Army, and Manitoba Fury. His teams have travelled to Huntington Beach, Disneyland, and throughout Canada. An interesting side note is that team Manitoba Fury is featured in NPPL Championship Paintball 2009, a paintball video game for XBOX 360 and Playstation 3.

“Paintball is a rollercoaster,” Spina stated, and has undergone numerous transformations over the years. As explained by Evan Schroeder, General Manager of Splatters Paintball.com, the sport originated in the seventies and eighties, when it was discovered that Pneumatic Marking Devices­­--commonly used to mark cattle and trees from a distance--easily doubled as a tool for sports play. Participants initially dressed in camouflage, played in wooded areas, and viewed paintball as a recreational activity. This basic, militaristic aspect of the sport was revolutionized in the 20^th century, and Spina explained that “technology did have an impact.”

Markers that could shoot faster were introduced to players, and new hoppers were created to compensate for the increase in speed. Professional teams that competed in organized tournaments emerged, as well as colourful, matching uniforms and sponsorships. Fields were built smaller, roughly half the size of a football field (compared the large 5 to 15 acre expanses used previously). Instead of hiding in the woods, these new fields consisted of maintained grass or Astroturf, and small inflatable bunkers became the only protection from the opposing teams. Strategy and planning, as well as athleticism became core aspects of the game.

Recently, the paintball industry has shifted back to previous recreational and militaristic styles of play. The cost associated with entering a tournament as a professional team was a huge factor, and playing recreationally became cheaper than playing tournament paintball. Despite this recent change, Spina and Schroeder are both confident the industry will continue to grow over the next few years. They both believe paintball will return to the large tournament style popular in the past, and the number of professional teams actively participating will increase. “Technology is not maxed out,” Spina commented, and “there’s still room for development of product and gear.”

An important point to note, Schroeder explained, is that “you don’t have to be physically fit or anything to be good at paintball. Anyone can play.” Paintball is as much a mental game as it is a physical one, and having a good strategy is just as important as being athletic. “You have to be able to see and be able to move,” he commented. “You can be 10 or 60. It’s really anybody’s game.”

My Projector Debut

Well, I am officially an involved student at Red River College. Yesterday, my first contribution to the Projector, the college newspaper, was published. Despite some editing (that was bound to happen), I can happily say that I am proud of my story. It was a Feature, which means that my writing took up and entire page, complete with two pictures!

Now, the online Projector website does not appear to be working properly, so anyone reading this will have to take my word for the fact that my story was AWESOME! A number of my classmates contributed as well, and I think CreComm Section One is off to a good start!!

The Classic Novel Files: "Middlemarch"

In my blog profile, I vowed to slowly revive classic novels. I plan to do just that, and the best place to start is with my personal favourite.

The novel is called "Middlemarch." It was written by George Eliot, and published in 1874. An interesting side note is that "George Eliot" was actually a pen name for the female author, Mary Anne Evans. She was an author during the Victorian Era, a time when it was not considered "ladylike" to be a writer. Evans used a pen name to ensure her work would be taken seriously, and given a fair chance at being published. I think this is one of the reasons why I love the book. I admire Evans courage. I t is also rumoured Evans used a pen name to avoid scrutiny over the fact she was having an affair with a married man, but i'm going to leave that one alone for now...

There are four main plots in the novel. Each plot follows either a man or a woman, and highlights their trials and tribulations as they attempt to find both a lover and a successful place in society. The plot line I am most interested in is that of the young Dorothea Brooke. She is a very religious, severe young woman who wants to use her intelligence to make the world a better place. This is normally an admirable quality, yet in Middlemarch, women are expected to play the piano and act as couch ornaments. I will not give away too much, but i'll just say that Dorothea doesn't find true happiness until the end of the novel.

Middlemarch is a fictitious town located somewhere in Central England. The fact that the entire novel takes place in a small town adds a comical aspect, because everyone makes a point of knowing everyone else's business. It is almost impossible for someone to sneeze without another person hearing about it 30 seconds later. This makes it very difficult for the characters in the novel to do as they please, as others are constantly interfering.

Overall, I think this is a novel everyone should read. It is well written, not that difficult to follow (even for those who aren't into the classic novel thing), and it teaches you what NOT to do in a relationship. I love it!

My Wardrobe is Eating Itself

This may seem like a weird post, but the following rant is something that has been bothering me for years...

A week ago, I was getting ready for school, and knew exactly what shirt I wanted to wear. I opened my closet, still half asleep. Not finding the desired garment immediately, I began shuffling through the hangers. Once... twice... three times through my closet, and still no shirt! Now, I know some women can relate to this problem. How many times have you known exactly what you want to wear, and then can't find it? I was mad! I quickly decided upon a second choice, and ran out the front door to catch my bus.

Three days ago, I was faced with the same situation. I knew exactly what I wanted to wear, but couldn't find it. Then, this evening, the SAME THING happened again! Now I am missing a shirt, a scarf, and a sweater. I don't remember taking them off anywhere and forgetting them. I don't remember doing laundry and hanging my clothing somewhere out of the ordinary. And, I KNOW my family isn't playing a trick on me, because I get very, VERY cranky when I can't find something.

The conclusion I have reached is that my wardrobe is slowly eating itself. Either that, or there is a monster in my closet who disagrees with some of my clothing choices. Either way, I have lost three items in a week and I am definitely not happy about it. I wonder if i'll lose anything tomorrow...

Oh, Elizabeth...

HOW I'VE MISSED YOU!

A few of my classmates have mentioned that I tend to be quite long winded with my blogs, so I am making a conscious effort this evening to write a shorter one. Last night, my boyfriend and I met at the University of Manitoba to study. We are both students, but attend different schools. This means we have only limited opportunities to spend time together, and study sessions are currently one of our only options. I used to be a student at the U of M, so I was comfortable going there to work.

We met outside the Elizabeth Dafoe Library, and went inside to find a place to sit. We worked for about an hour, at which time I decided I needed a break. Instead of leaving the library, I decided to walk through the rows of books on each of the three levels. It only took a moment to remember how much I love it there.

I don't know for sure if it's the smell of the books, the sounds of students quietly studying, or the feeling of intellectual energy that attracts me to this particular library. Most likely, it's a combination of all of the above. But as I walked around, I was instantly relaxed and content. I love to read, and I spent a lot of time in libraries when I was a child. There is something comforting in being surrounded by so many authors.

I returned to my seat and continued to study, but with a renewed sense of appreciation for Elizabeth Dafoe Library. If you find a quiet corner, it truly is a magical place to spend an evening, and is something I recommend to everyone.

Anger Management 101

How NOT to behave like a child when faced with a stressful situation...

Last night, something happened. It's slightly embarrassing, and I wouldn't normally say anything. But, I know at least a few of my CreComm classmates will read this blog, and they can probably relate. I was having serious computer difficulties, and my browser window crashed twice. Being a semi-mature individual, I did what many people do when faced with frustrating technical problems. I had a temper tantrum.

When technology works for me, it's fabulous. I can accomplish a task quickly, and move on. On the other hand, when all I need to do is print a document, and things aren't working, I get mad. Very, very mad.

I am one of those instant gratification kinds of people. When I need something to work, I need it to work NOW. I don't have time to wait, reboot, and repeat. When faced with a long to-do list and not enough hours in the day, it's easy to become frustrated quickly. Especially when the first task on that list involved a computer that is intent on giving me trouble. Therefore, my troubles began...

As the computer screen froze, I growled at it unattractively. When that didn't work, I started swearing. I guess my computer took the profanity personally, because after that, all I got was the black screen of death. Therefore, I did the most productive thing I could think of at that moment. I threw my binder -- with all my school work -- down the stairs.

Those of you who have thrown a binder in anger are fully aware of what happened next. Paper went flying everywhere. In addition to my frustration of wasting time with computer issues, I now found myself sitting on the floor collecting and reorganizing the scattered papers. As I sat there organizing, I started laughing at how ridiculous I must look. There HAS TO be a better way to deal with anger...

The following is a list of anger management techniques I looked up after my computer and I resolved our difference of opinion. You may laugh, but next time i'm going to try breathing instead of throwing things. It might just work...

• Breathe deeply, from your diaphragm (breathing from your chest won't help)
• Slowly repeat a calming word as you breathe (I think that "banana" or "onomatopoeia" might work for me!)
• Visualize a relaxing experience, using a memory or your imagination
• Stretch or perform slow yoga exercises
• Remove yourself from the scene until you can calmly return
• Try to look for the positives in the situation

He's Alive!

It has been about a year since my good friend, Mac, came home from Afghanistan. I have known him for over half my life, and you can probably imagine how I felt the entire time he was away. Every two months, I would send him care packages filled with magazines, toys, games, and of course food. As much as I enjoyed putting the packages together, I was delighted when he came back to Canada. Mac's family lives in Calgary, but he reported -- at the time -- to the military base in Shiloh, MB. When he called me from Afghanistan to tell me he was coming home, he asked if he could visit me first, and fly to Calgary the following day. I was delighted Mac thought of me right away, yet also slightly confused. Shouldn't his family take priority? I refrained from asking him the question, and told him I would be delighted to have him as a house guest.

Mac showed up on my doorstep at about 7 pm in early December. He was tired, he was hungry, and he was very, very quiet. After the hugs had ended, Mac plopped down on my couch... and just sat. He is normally a very outgoing, energetic, smiley sort of guy, and his behavior confused and frightened me at first. There wasn't even the slightest hint of a smile on his face. What was going on? It was after sitting quietly for a moment that I understood his silence. I also realized why he wanted to visit me before seeing his family. It was actually quite obvious. He was in shock. Mac had been living in a war zone for over six months. Now here he was, sitting on my couch again. He probably had absolutely no idea how to deal with the change. And, seeing me first would give him some time to unwind and come back to reality before reuniting with his family. Of course! It made perfect sense. I immediately adjusted my attitude, checked my excitement, and allowed Mac an opportunity to take in his surroundings. My mom came home a few moments later, and the three of us gradually worked our way into a conversation. The only downside was that Mac still had not smiled a real smile.

At about 10 pm, the phone rang. My mom reluctantly got up to get it, while Mac and I continued our conversation. Then, from the other room, she yelled "WHAT" very loudly into the receiver. My attention was instantly diverted towards her phone conversation, and I heard her ask "which hospital" to the caller on the other end. Hanging up the phone and re-entering the living room, she announced that Chris (my brother) had broken his collar bone, and she was needed at the hospital. Giving Mac a quick hug goodbye, she was out the door, leaving the two of us to our own devices. And still no smile on his face.

Roughly 45 minutes later, just as Mac and I were about to call it a night, the doorbell rang. I turned on the porch light, and discovered my brothers friend, Mark, standing on the steps. Behind him was a large van filled with boys, all of whom were staring guiltily at me. Mark didn't say anything, but handed over my brother's video camera. He wouldn't make eye contact, and quickly ran down the driveway and into the waiting van. Starting up the engine, the van screeched its tires and sped away down the dark street. I was left standing at the front door with a video camera in my hand, and absolutely no idea what was going on.

As I walked back into the living room, I started to think. The caller on the phone earlier had been one of my brother's friends. He told my mom that Chris had an accident. But he did not specify what type of accident. Then, an hour later, a van full of Chris' friends drop off his video camera. Hmmm.... I wonder... I sat back down on the couch, camera in hand, and explained my thought pattern to Mac. It took us roughly 30 seconds to decide that whatever my brother had been up to was probably on that camera. We also decided that it was not an invasion of privacy to watch it, and activated the playback feature.

I can honestly say that while watching the video of my brother breaking his collar bone, I laughed harder than I have ever laughed in my entire life. Maybe it was because it was my brother being injured, or because the actual stupidity behind the injury was so overwhelmingly ridiculous. Either way, I laughed. A lot. But the greatest part of all was that Mac was sitting beside me, LAUGHING with me! I had spend the better part of the evening trying to get him to smile, and now he was laughing so hard he was crying. We played the video about ten times in a row. When that became boring, we played it in reverse. Then, slow motion. Over all, we probably watched that video for an hour. It was great...

I guess the point i'm trying to make is that sometimes people have a hard time adjusting to certain situations. Sometimes, they even lose the desire to smile. But, when the time is right, everyone comes around. I initially decided to write this post after watching the Sex and the City Movie for the hundredth time. In it, Miranda tells a jilted Carrie that she will laugh again, when something is really, really funny. She was right. Carrie did laugh again (even though i'm not going to repeat here what happened to make her laugh). The same thing happened with Mac. He just needed that one, hilarious moment to bring him back. I'm not saying that I am glad my brother injured himself, but I was very happy to see my friend smile again.

Unfortunately, my computer wouldn't allow me to add the video to this blog. But, here's the address: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SZ0UV6jUY9U. My brother is the one wearing the white hat...

Starry, Starry Night!

Melanie -- one of my instructors -- suggested I check out the following video. It is a slide show of Vincent Van Gogh's paintings, and runs to the song "Vincent" by Don McLean. It was created for the art students at Mississippi State Hospital, a psychiatric institution. I think that was a lovely gesture, considering Van Gogh himself was an artist struggling with his sanity. I saw this video for the first time about a year ago, and forgot it existed, so thanks Melanie!



This summer, when I went to Europe, I was finally able to see some of Van Gogh's paintings in person. The first painting I saw was "Sunflowers," at the National Gallery in London. It was fabulous! My brother, Chris, tried to take pictures (which were strictly forbidden), while I just stood there and stared. I think I was the brush strokes that got me, and how defined they are. I stood in front of that first painting for about 20 minutes, until Chris had to force me out of there!

Next, we visited the Van Gogh Museum in Amsterdam. In the collection there was over 300 paintings, drawings, and sketches. I wont go into detail about my experiences THERE, but lets just say there were a few tears!

The last museum I visited with Van Gogh paintings was the Musee D'Orsay in Paris. If you ever have a chance to go to Paris, this museum is a MUST DO. It was constructed in an old train station, and has such features as catwalks, interesting architecture, elevated and raised platforms and randomly arranged rooms. Musee D'Ordsay houses some of the worlds most famous paintings, including Monet, Manet, Toulouse-Lautrec, and of course, Van Gogh. We spent about 5 hours in this museum, and I fell in love with my surroundings. Next time we return, I plan to spend a whole day there, if not two!

I didn't get to see my favourite painting, the famous "Starry Night," but I was able to see "Starry Night on the Rhine," my second favourite. My family has a copy of this painting in our living room, and I think it is absolutely beautiful!

Teenagers = Blargh!!

This morning, I had an interesting experience on the bus. It was one of the last Whyte Ridge buses of the morning, and was unusually packed. I guess the high school kids figured out this bus was somehow superior to the bus most other high school students were taking, but that is not the issue. What IS the issue is that I was almost crushed by the front door.

The high school kids decided to congregate right at the FRONT of the bus, and there was not enough room for all of them to sit. I waited for a moment--after untangling myself from the almost fatal door situation--in hopes the kids would realize they were blocking the way. Nope, didn't happen. I waited about a minute (which I feel was a completely adequate amount of time), and then tapped one of the boys on the shoulder. He turned around, looked at me, and said "yeah?"

I politely asked him if he and his friends could move down or move over, which I fully believe I was in my right to do. He just stared at me. Apparently I was speaking French. So, ever so POLITELY, I shoved by him and worked my way through the rest of the pack of kids to the back of the bus. I received a glare from the boy, and everyone else in the group continually stared at me until the bus reached the high school.

I was thinking, at that moment, what i'm sure many people think when faced with a rude teenager situation: "those darn kids." I KNOW I was never like that at their age.

Throughout the day, I began to ponder my eventful bus ride. WAS I ever a teenager like that? I remember being the group of loud ones on the C-Train in Calgary, coming home from work. And I guess I have been guilty of blocking the way on buses a few times when I was younger. Ok, ok, and I may have been rude to someone on a bus... possibly. But that doesn't mean I was a stereotypical teenager, does it?

On the bus ride home, I had another lovely close encounter with the high school kids. Same thing. They don't get it. But at least I had a seat. Having nothing else to do at that particular moment, I began playing back my teenage years. I remember when we forced my friend, Bryan, into a manhole under the road. We locked him in it, and ran away giggling. The plan was to wait a few minutes, then go back and get him out. How were we supposed to know a car would park on top of the manhole, trapping him for an hour? In hindsight, that was pretty juvenile.

The moral of the story is that i've decided to cut the high school kids a bit of slack. The above examples are only a few of the many annoying and immature things I did as a teenager. I managed to grow up eventually, so i'll let kids be kids and not judge. Tomorrow on the bus I wont let it get to me, as long as I am not almost crushed by the door again. But that doesn't mean I wont roll my eyes...

Must Creativity Equal Instability?

Last week, in creative writing class, we were shown a clip of Elizabeth Gilbert, author of "Eat, Pray, Love." She was speaking about creativity, and the cost of being a creative individual. She also talked about the fact that many creative individuals suffer from one (or more) forms of depression, mental illness, or drug abuse. This got me thinking. As I am creative individual myself, I wondered: is it possible to BE creative and maintain ones stability simultaneously?

The clip below is a tribute to singer/songwriter Elliott Smith. I wanted to use him as my first example, and provide some background music that I love for this entry. Every time I listen to Woods' music, I am almost moved to tears. His skills as a guitarist and his incredible lyrics define--at least to me--what a creative individual is. That being said, I find it tragic, yet understandable, that his life ended with a suicide at age 34.


When I think of creative individuals who were destroyed by their genius, I immediately think of musicians. Some of the worlds most gifted young stars, such as Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin, and Kurt Cobain, were deeply depressed. While this unhappiness created some of the greatest music of their respective time periods, it also led them further away from happiness. Sadly, each of these creative individuals turned to drugs, and eventually took their own lives.

One can also look towards the movie industry, as there are similar examples. I remember--as silly as some people might find this--feeling a personal sense of loss when actor Heath Ledger died. Not because I mourned the loss of an attractive male, but because I truly believed he was a supremely talented individual. He became immersed in the character of the joker in "The Dark Night." Ledger medicated himself to cope with the character he created for the movie, yet could not shut off "the thoughts of the joker" in his mind. While the example of Ledger was not a suicide, but an accidental overdose, it was equally as tragic. As was the death of actor River Phoenix, who played Chris in the 1986 blockbuster "Stand By Me." Phoenix--just like Smith, Hendrix, and Cobain--turned to drugs. His body couldn't keep up, and his heart failed outside the Viper Room nightclub.

I also looked further into the past to find more examples of troubled creativity. My favourite artist--Vincent Van Gogh--cut off his own ear before taking his own life in 1890. During his life, Van Gogh sold only one painting, and faced constant financial strains. He also lived in and out of mental institutions, and led a highly emotional life. Poetry, prose, and script writer Dylan Thomas is another example. He suffered from mental breakdowns and serious alcoholism, both of with were a result of his fear of losing inspiration. Thomas collapsed in 1953, at age 39, and passed away four days later.

After considering each of the above examples, I began to wonder if there was any hope for me as a creative individual at all. I spent an evening making a list of those who have struggled and prevailed, to try to find some answers. Right at the top of my list was one of my favorite bands, the Red Hot Chili Peppers. "Scar Tissue," the autobiography written by front man, Anthony Kiedis, is one of my favorite books, and it tells a story of creative individuals who struggled, and eventually prevailed. Kiedis, along with band mates John Frusciante and Flea, faced years of drug addiction. Frusciante spent time in rehab, and at one point actually had to leave the band in order to recover. Despite their struggles, the members of the Chili Peppers managed to pull themselves together. They are still making music to this day, and plans are underway for another CD after a two year hiatus.

After writing down and organizing all of the above information, I realized that it is possible for a creative individual to struggle with the "dark side" of their craft, and prevail. True, some of us will sink deeper than others, and some will need assistance to be reunited with the positive side of life. The Chili Peppers are only one example of creative individuals who struggled, and overcame, yet there are so many more. It IS possible to be a creative individual and maintain a hold on reality at the same time, but it is difficult. The key to success, (in my opinion) is being aware of the negative signs of an internal struggle before they begin to expand and manifest themselves. That was--for many of the above mentioned individuals--how the downfall began. I truly believe that somewhere, sometime, somehow, we will all have the opportunity to unleash our creative energy upon the world. We just have to be aware of how to pick ourselves up again if we fall.

I will end this entry with one more Elliott Smith video. This one is an actual music video, and the song, "Miss Misery," was featured on the "Good Will Hunting" movie soundtrack. Enjoy!

Manitoba's Hidden Gems: Marconi School

Last weekend, my boyfriend, Jeff, took me to his farm for a mini-vacation. It is located near Asessippi Ski Hill, and is roughly a three hour drive from Winnipeg. I have been there a few times, but always during winter, when all I could focus on was getting inside to warmth. This was my first official summer visit to the farm, and I was eager for a weekend away from people, technology, and the city.

What I didn't realize was that the Manitoba countryside is filled with partially-hidden yet thoroughly interesting historical sites. Originally from Calgary, I have only lived in Winnipeg for six years, and the entire time has been spent juggling education and work. It's a lifestyle of my choosing, yet doesn't exactly leave much time for exploring the province. So when Jeff pointed out an aging sign bearing the words "historic site" in faded white text, I was instantly intrigued. He saw I was interested, and promised to take me to what he referred to as "the creepy, old abandoned school," the following day.

The formal name is Marconi School, and it is a one-room schoolhouse that held classes from 1922-1959. An interesting tidbit is that the school was named after Guglielmo Marconi, the Italian inventor of the radio and Nobel Prize winner for Physics in 1909. To find this hidden gem, we drove down a small, single-lane road through the forest for about ten minutes. And "single lane" does not even come close to describing this road. It is quite literally two tire marks in the grass (and as a self-proclaimed city girl from Calgary, I really haven't seen a country road like that before). Just as I was beginning to doubt the historic site still existed, a clearing in the woods became visible ahead, and I held my breath in anticipation.

Jeff jumped out of the truck, but I simply sat in the passenger seat and stared. In front of me, perfectly preserved, sat the cutest one-room schoolhouse I have ever seen. The lawn surrounding the school was freshly cut, and it was obvious someone was taking very good care of the property. But what surprised me the most was that Jeff casually walked up to the door, and opened it. The building was unlocked, and free for the public to enter.

It's difficult to describe how I felt as I walked inside the school. After walking through the foyer, the cloakroom was directly on my left. Past it was the entrance to the school-room, which was literally one room. I could imagine students sitting there in the 30's, 40's and 50's, watching the teacher writing on the board or casually staring out the windows. The old, wooden desks were still attached to the floor, and in very good condition. They are the desks you might see on a rerun of "Little House on the Prairie," where the seat and table top are attached. The blackboard was still in place, and covered two of the four walls in the room. On the board, someone had written instructions asking visitors to enjoy themselves, but leave the school in the same condition they entered it. At the front of the room, where the teacher would stand, was a guest book.

We walked around the room in almost complete silence, as if any sound might disturb the learning of a past student. I was about to exit the building when Jeff called me over to a corner. There was another small room adjacent to the cloakroom, and it used to be the library. There were still a number of old textbooks and teachers references on the shelves, begging to be picked up and examined. There were books on history, health, farming, geography, and the list could go on and on. I slowly examined each title, all the while musing over how the books were still here. I think it is very admirable that visitors are free to enter as they please, yet the books have not been removed or vandalized in any way. Being able to see and touch what students of the past studied made the experience all the more real for me, allowing me to connect with the building on a personal level.

Around the back of the building are three rooms which used to be the teachers quarters. We wandered through them, yet I felt I was intruding in someones personal space. Before leaving, we walked around the exterior of the building, and talked about what it must have been like for a student during that time. I feel privileged to have been born during a time when technology is flourishing and expanding, yet I wonder what it would have been like learning and maturing without television, the internet, or my cell phone. On a certain level I think I envy those students, and will admit that I occasionally long for simplicity.

My plan is to visit as many historical sites as possible throughout Manitoba over the next few years, in hopes of learning about the history in our province directly from where it occurred. I welcome any advice or information about interesting sites around Manitoba, and I will do my best to get to them all! The next time we visit the farm, Jeff will be taking me to the site of a mass grave and an abandoned church, and I can't wait to write about what I will experience in both of those locations...

Acapella CAN BE Cool

I wanted to begin my blog with an interesting video. My mom showed me this one a few months ago, and I fell in love with it. I remember back to high school choir class when we were forced to sing songs acapella. We were not very good.

On the other hand, the group in this video--Straight No Chaser--is very good. The fact that they are all guys and cool with being acapella singers makes this video even more special to me.

For those of you who have no idea what I mean by acapella, here's a definition for you: acapella is vocal music or singing without instrumental accompaniment. In other words, it is very difficult.

Take a look, and let me know what you think:

Welcome to the Inner Workings of my Mind...

I spent a solid week agonizing over what the content of my blog would be, and I honestly had no idea what to write about. I knew I needed to write entries pertaining to a central theme, yet I could not come up with a concept that people would actually be interested in. Friends and family attempted to help, to no avail. I became terrified I would be destined to write a blog about nothing.

Suddenly, it hit me. The light bulb in my head snapped on, and everything became clear. This is MY blog, so I can write about everything and anything I choose. People have become rich writing television shows about "nothing," so why can't I write a blog in the same fashion? And surely someone, somewhere, at some time will be interested in what I deem important enough to share with the world. I enjoy writing short stories, poems, and anecdotes about my daily activities and experiences, so I might as well make it public!

My promise, and mission statement, is to provide marginally-humorous, occasionally-stimulating accounts of my personal daily activities. My entries may not contain earth-shattering revelations about life and the world as we know it, but they will be real. What will follow will be a genuine account of the life and times of a 23-year-old Creative Communications (CreComm) student. I will include short stories, poems, song lyrics, critiques, reviews and general entries about what happens around me. I will also include videos, pictures and songs that I enjoy and deem interesting enough to share.

Finally, I feel it is necessary to explain the title of this blog. The concept is simple: Many people feel their lives are not very interesting. I used to be in the same boat, before my light bulb revelation. I could tell each and every one of you that your lives ARE interesting, but you probably will not believe me. SO, my blog is a daily dose of hope. After reading it for awhile, my goal is that you will realize your own, individual brilliance, and start a blog of your own. Let me know when you do, because I will follow it, just as you followed mine. That is a promise.

With that being said, lets get started!