Inability to eat initiates 2011 menu plans

Yesterday, I had my last wisdom tooth removed.

Yes, only one, but it was impacted (which meant I needed to be put to sleep for the surgery). I don't like being knocked out - as I'm sure most people don't - but for some reason I was especially nervous yesterday.

Well, the surgery was fine. My mouth is swollen and I'm exhausted, but otherwise I'm in good spirits. I can't drive and am supposed to relax, so I've spent the last 24 hours reading, writing, sleeping and watching way too much television. It's not a bad way to spend a winter holiday, if you ask me.

The only downside to this situation is that I can't really eat anything yet. My diet currently consists of pudding and jello, and I am unimpressed. Normally, I don't really think about food. I'm usually too busy to care. I eat because I need to, and over the past few months while in school I have eaten whatever had been put in front of me.

As I lay in agony last night, I started thinking about all the meals that I love but haven't had the time or energy to create. Things such as pesto pasta with freshly sauteed vegetables, or shrimp and spinach salads, have completely fallen off the menu. They have been replaced with instant lasagna, Subway sandwiches, and chicken fingers, and it is time that I put my foot down.

My resolution for the coming year is to start cooking again. This doesn't have to be a huge process, as there is only Jeff and I to worry about. It also doesn't have to be an expensive process, as fresh vegetables are actually quite cheap. I am not going to let my hectic schedule interfere with the finer things in life in 2011, and I have already begun planning what I will try prepare first.

All it took was a surgery and the inability for me to eat to come to this conclusion. Go figure.

I still want to write!

Something fantastic and magical happened to me this morning. I woke up early, and the only thing I wanted to do was start writing a short story I apparently created in my sleep.

After an entire summer – followed by a long semester – where all I did was write, write, and write some more, I actually woke up and still wanted to do it. I guess that means I am actually a writer...

A Christmas concert to remember

I will never forget what it felt like to celebrate Christmas only weeks after my grandma died. No one in my family was feeling festive, and it seemed like we went through the motions of celebration because we simply didn’t know what else to do.

The person who took it the hardest, of course, was my mom. She had just lost her last parent after caring for her for six months. My mom was a rock as my grandma slowly got sicker and sicker, and I can’t even imagine how hard it must have been to put on a happy face day after day. Then, suddenly, grandma was gone, and mom was no longer needed.

It’s very strange how the most unlikely thing can change a person’s attitude so drastically, but that is exactly what happened to my family. We had purchased tickets to the Barenaked Ladies Christmas Show, and after much deliberation, we still decided to attend. My mom absolutely loves the band, and we needed to do something fun over the holidays.

As the band performed popular song after popular song, I watched as the smile on my mom’s face slowly grow wider and wider. At the end of the concert – after about four encores – we were both out of our seats laughing, dancing, and singing along. It was perfect. We left the concert feeling festive and jubilant. It was a pick-up that we all desperately needed.

My heart goes out to anyone who has the misfortune of losing a loved one over the holiday season. It isn’t easy. My advice is to lean on the family you have left for support. They are hurting too, and together, you can make it. We did, and we’re so much closer because we stuck together.

Merry Christmas, grandma. I love you.

Today in history... famous deaths

I'm not morbid, but I always like to pay homage to the anniversary of my favourite author's death.

On this day in 1880, George Eliot - the pen name for real-life Mary Ann Evans - died at her home in Chelsea, England. She wasn't buried in Westminster Abbey due to her denial of the Christian faith and the fact that she "lived in sin" with a boyfriend. She was, however, granted a memorial stone in Poet's Corner of the abbey in 1980. I saw her stone when I was in England, and it was a fantastic moment.

Eliot wrote Middlemarch, which is my favourite novel. It's about four couples who are (or are not) in love, and pretty much details what not to do when trying to successfully marry someone. If you want to know more about the novel, click here to read my earlier blog post about it.

Berlin

I stand there in front of the wall.
It stretches up to ten feet tall, and I
ask myself how could this ever happen?

I hold my breath and turn around.
I keep my eyes locked on the ground.
I can’t look back for if I do I’ll scream.

I walk alone on a quiet street.
All I can hear is my own heart beat, and
the angry whispers of ghosts no longer alive.

They follow me and know my path.
They dare me to come back, and
leave my mark just like those before me.

So I write my name, and draw a heart,
beside the words that make me stop,
and marvel at the strength of a stranger.

“Here’s a city on the mend,
here’s a home, and here’s a friend,”
is written in an optimistic hand.

One of my favourite pictures in the entire world. That's me, standing in front of the wall. I was moved to tears, but can you blame me?

'Let's make some memories'

The above quote was my motto throughout the last term of school. I realized one morning that life was passing by far too quickly, and I wasn't taking enough time to stop and enjoy every moment. So many people are always wishing for life to hurry up and get going. What's wrong with right now? This is your life, too...

Last night, an impromptu musical trio was formed in my apartment. Coming together to play music is a normal occurrence among our group of friends, but last night we played in a way we haven't before.

Part of the reason why things were different was because Jeff and I recently purchased a new electric guitar as our Christmas present to each other. It is beautiful, and it is the guitar that George Harrison used to play.

The rest of the reason why our music-making was different was because a key member of our band was missing. Our good friend Jon is travelling the world for six months, and he's currently situated in Melbourne, Australia.

We miss you, Jonny, but we know you're having an amazing time. P.S. I'm finally working in the F-chord. I think I'll have it figured out my the time you get back.

Happy holidays everyone, and I hope you have an amazing time making your own memories.

Comfort movies

It's the last day of class. I just wrote my Canadian Literature exam, and I hope I never have to discuss postmodernism again (no offence, Dr. Petty). I'm tired, my brain is fried, and I can't seem to focus on anything substantial.

The perfect solution = mindless comfort movies.

Jeff and I recently signed up for the 30-day free trial of Netflix. We haven't seen much of each other the past few months, and want to use the free movie catalogue as an excuse to spend some well-needed time together.

I started the evening with Anastasia, an animated movie featuring the vocal talents of John Cusak, Christopher Lloyd and Meg Ryan. When I was young, I absolutely loved this movie. I knew every word of every song by heart, and I dreamed that I was the "lost" princess. Looking back, I wonder if this film helped fuel my obsession with history... Probably.

Remember this? Those were the days... Much simpler times...

Next, I moved on to Jetsons: The Movie. Again, this was a movie that I remembered fondly from my childhood. I had forgotten that teenage pop sensation Tiffany sang most of the musical numbers, and that the underground mining area scared the hell out of me.

It's not everyday that I can take an evening and watch mindless movies, and it was fantastic.

The Kayak Adventure: Part II

To read part one, click here.

“Stop!” Scott yelled fiercely. We all readily complied. “Pull your paddles in, and don’t touch the water.”

“What is it?” Molly asked.

“Whales,” he replied simply.

As we all watched in amazement, a pod of humpback whales surrounded our grouping of kayaks. At one point, I could have reached out and touched one had I wanted to. We counted at least seven whales in total. They swam around us with an air of authority, and it was amazing to see the creatures so close. Everyone was silent until we could no longer make out the sprays of water from their blowholes in the distance.

Scott instructed us all to continue paddling. He remained behind, took more photos with his underwater camera, and determined the tiger shark was gone. The whales had scared him away, most likely. Whether they realized it or not, the whales had saved us from what could have been a devastatingly fatal tragedy.

Most people would immediately head for land after experiencing something as terrifying as a potential shark attack. Not us. We paddled for another half hour, and arrived at a coral reef. Scott instructed us all to put on our snorkeling gear and hop into the water. We were going swimming.

If Chris hadn’t gleefully donned his gear and jumped into the ocean, I probably would have remained in the kayak. But, I didn’t want to explain to my parents what had happened if he was eaten or carried away by a whale, so I followed. And, I’m glad I did.

We were in the water for about five minutes when Chris tapped me on the shoulder. He pointed at something, and I followed the path of his outstretched arm with my eyes. It took me a moment to understand what he saw, but then, I saw them too. Swimming up from the depths of the coral reef were three very large sea turtles.

The turtles didn’t simply watch us from a distance. They joined us. Before I knew it, people were touching them, following them, and swimming with them. The turtles didn’t seem to mind. One of them actually swam up and looked me right in the eyes. If I hadn’t been wearing a snorkel, I probably would have screamed with surprise. But there wasn’t anything scary or strange about this situation. The turtles were as interested in us as we were in them. It was fascinating.

Chris and I agreed afterwards that our kayak adventure was a once in a lifetime opportunity. We both experienced the power of nature’s creatures. I never thought I would see and touch a turtle that was almost the same size as me, and I definitely never thought a pod of whales would save me from a tiger shark. The ocean is a magical place, and one never knows what to expect when they step off of land and surrender to its power.

Today in history... John Lennon died

A few nights ago, I watched the documentary The U.S vs. John Lennon. It was fantastic, and provided insight into the life of a man simultaneously known as a musician, activist, poet, and father.

I have loved The Beatles since I was little. I remember my parents playing records in the basement of our house in Calgary when I was as young as seven or eight. I guess I grew up on The Beatles, and John was always my favourite.

He's just so cute!

One winter, I was looking through a bookshelf in the basement of my house when I stumbled across an old scrapbook. It was my mom's, and it was filled with newspaper clippings from when John Lennon was shot. Mom kept track of the story as it progressed, and I was fascinated by the number of clippings she had. It seemed that every single day there was another story about the shooting for months after his death, and the entire world seemed to be hanging onto every word.

On this day in 1980, John Lennon was shot four times on the steps of his New York apartment by Mark David Chapman. He was rushed to hospital, but was pronounced dead at 11:07 p.m. The world mourned, and 30 years later, we still mourn.

Play a Beatles song today in remembrance. I suggest Happy Xmas (War Is Over).

The Kayak Adventure: Part I

It was seven a.m. on a clear, beautiful, Maui morning when my brother, Chris, and I stepped into a kayak for the first time. We had been on vacation for a week, and wanted to end our trip with a water activity that would bring us closer together as siblings. Along with a group of 10 similar vacationing kayak virgins, we pushed off the shores of Makena Landing with no idea of what to expect.

Our guide, Scott, explained the basics of kayaking while we were still on land. Paddle, obviously, don’t rock the boat, and don’t stand up for any reason. Simple rules that we believed we could easily follow.

Beautiful Makena Landing on Maui's west shore. This was our launch point.

It was about 30 minutes after we set off that potential disaster struck. On my left side, a woman named Molly was piloting a single-person kayak. She’s a lively, outgoing girl, and she walked up to Chris and I to introduce herself within moments of arriving on the beach that morning. When I heard her scream beside me, I thought something funny must have happened to her and she was shouting with excitement.

Turning to look in her direction, I saw that a gigantic fin was rubbing up against the side of her kayak. The small craft teetered precariously as Molly looked around wildly in horror. As quickly as it had appeared, the fin was gone, but Molly refused to move.

Arriving at her side moments later, Scott attempted in vain to calm her down. The rest of our group waited hesitantly, eyes searching the rolling water fervently. Then, beside another kayak, the fin emerged again. Scott quickly paddled toward it, and, grabbing his underwater camera, thrust his arm into the depths of the ocean. He pulled it out a moment later, and had taken 20 photographs of what lay beneath our small crafts.

“What is it?” I heard my brother ask nervously behind me as Scott worked the replay button on the camera. He didn’t answer for a moment as he scanned the images on the screen. Then, with an expression that was a cross between excitement and nervousness, he answered.

“Um... well...” he began. “It’s a tiger shark.”

Glances were exchanged all around the group of kayakers. None of us were especially ocean-savvy, but a tiger shark sounded like bad news.

“Is that weird?” Chris asked. “I mean, is that not normal?” Trust him to ask the questions that everyone else was too afraid to utter.

Scott looked up, and smiled. “I’ve never seen one in this part of the ocean before. Dolphins, yes. Whales, sure. Tiger sharks, never.”

“Are they dangerous?” another person asked.

He didn’t have an opportunity to answer, because another shriek was emitted from Molly’s direction. The fin had reappeared, and again it was brushing against the side of her kayak. Scott looked around quickly, saw there was no large boat in the area to offer assistance, and quickly made up his mind.

When we were told to paddle for open ocean, we were five miles off the coast of Maui.
Beautiful, but terrifying.

“Alright,” he said in an authoritative tone. “We’re going to paddle that way.” He pointed towards what looked like an expanse of open ocean. “We’ll keep paddling until the shark is gone. Okay?” Everyone nodded nervously. “Alright, go!”

We took off. Every once in awhile, we could see the shark’s fin poke up above the water around our group, and it was obviously following us. Scott didn’t say anything, but I could tell that he was nervous.

We didn’t find out until later that it was a 15-foot tiger shark, and that tiger sharks have a nasty habit of trying to eat people. The fin was as long as my outstretched arms from fingertip to fingertip, and at least five feet tall. Scott didn’t know if the shark was interested in eating us, specifically, but didn’t want to wait around to find out.

Suddenly, in front of us, four or five sprays of water appeared.

TO BE CONTINUED...

The theremin

Every once in awhile, I stumble upon something truly fascinating that I simply have to blog about. Last night, it was the theremin.

The theremin is an electric instrument that was invented by a Russian physicist named Lev Sergeivich Termen (known in the West as Léon Theremin) in October 1920. He demonstrated the instrument to Vladimir Lenin - the leader of the Bolsheviks - and he was so impressed with it that he ordered 600 to be made and distributed around the Soviet Union.

Strangely enough, the theremin is controlled without contact from the person playing it. Two metal antennas sense the position of the player's hands. The frequency of the sound is controlled with one hand; the volume with another. The result is an eerie sound that is projected through a loudspeaker.

It's difficult to clearly articulate exactly what this instrument is, so I have included a series of videos to better convey how fascinating the theremin is.


VIDEO ONE: The inventor provides a demonstration in 1920 (and yes, this video is actually from that long ago. How it appeared on YouTube, I have no idea).





VIDEO TWO: An individual uses the theremin to create his own unique rendition of Clair de Lune by Claude Debussy (a beautiful song).





VIDEO THREE: Theremin magic for trekkies everywhere!




Pretty crazy, right? I can't believe I've never heard of one before, but now that I have seen the theremin in action, I think I'll have to purchase one in the future.

*All videos taken from YouTube.

Firenze

I’m surrounded by garbage.
I didn’t discover there was a sanitation strike until after my opinion of the city had been soiled.

It’s hot and muggy.
The man standing in front of me obviously hasn’t showered in a very long time.

But then again, that could be me who smells.

This is Europe, and personal hygiene goes out the window after about three days of travel.
A standard European bathroom leaves much to desired, and absolutely everything in the room is soaking wet after each attempt with the handheld shower wand.

Take a swim in a river. Or wait for rain. Trust me, it’s easier.

The man I’m standing behind is enjoying the fact that he isn’t bothered by the heat while I am.
I’ve been in Italy for five days, yet I still feel like my body will liquefy at any moment.

The line begins to move, and for the first time I allow myself to think about air conditioning.

Silly thoughts, really, because it’s very rare that a museum in Europe is actually air conditioned.
The buildings are hundreds of years old, and I doubt that Bernini and Michelangelo were thinking about future cooling systems when they designed things.

As I stop just outside the main entrance, I grab a pen and vandalize the graffiti-covered wall.

Every hour, my brother and I made a note of how long we had been standing in line.
We got the idea from the hundreds of people who had marked the wall before us.

I felt especially bad for Cindy from Newfoundland, who stood outside for seven hours with a screaming baby and a three-year-old.
But I will admit, reading the slow progress of others helped me survive the unbearable heat.

Yes, this is what we actually looked like. It was that hot. So very, very hot.

And then, it happened.

Just as I began to become overly cynical about Florence, the museum employee lowered the red rope, and we were ushered inside the building.
No air conditioning – just as I suspected – but that didn’t matter anymore.

I threaded my way through wide, marbled hallways, eyes searching fervently for one particular exhibit.

And then, I found him.

Standing tall, regal, and sexy at the end of the hallway, was Michelangelo’s David.
It took my breath away, and I managed to catch a tear running down my cheek before anyone noticed I was crying.

Honestly thought, I doubt anyone would really blame me for crying.
Gazing at David for the first time is enough to make a grown man weep like he had just been kicked in the balls by a woman wearing stilettos.

It’s a truly beautiful moment.

As I got closer, I realized that David wasn’t proportioned properly.
His hands and feet were too large, his head was gigantic, and his limbs seemed unnaturally small.

What was up with that?

I brought my confusion to an employee’s attention, and she kindly explained that Michelangelo engineered David to be disproportioned on purpose.
That way, he would look perfect from far away or from above.

Smart man, that Michelangelo. He did good work on the Sistine Chapel too.

I walked around the magnificent statue 10, maybe 15 times, and took in as many details as possible.
The veins running through his arms are realistic.
The muscles in his legs are toned.
His hair, his hands, and his lips all look like they belong to a real flesh-and-blood human being.

Seriously, everything looks real.

I walked out of the museum, back into the dry Florence heat, feeling completely fulfilled.
Some people live their entire lives without laying eyes on the real David, and I had just spent a fantastic, memorable hour with him.

Purchasing a bottle of water and dousing myself with it, I trudged away from the museum through the piles of garbage.
The smelly man from the line-up was sitting on a bench smoking, and he smiled at me as I walked past.
I was hot and uncomfortable again, eagerly anticipating returning to the hostel, but to my surprise, I smiled back.

I had just seen David, after all. What’s a little heat and garbage, really?

And this was me after spending time with the gorgeous David. It's funny how things like extreme heat and lack of air conditioning cease to matter during a truly beautiful moment.

Douglas Coupland's "Player One"

In Canadian Literature class, we were assigned the task of reading and reviewing a book by a Canadian author that has been published in the last year. This is what I came up with...

Honestly, I would love to sit down and have a beer with Coupland. I think we would have a lot to talk about.

Throughout the past 19 years, Canadian author Douglas Coupland has published over 20 works of fiction and non-fiction. He has also published numerous articles and stories for magazines and literary journals. Beginning with his first novel – Generation X: Tales for an Accelerated Culture, published in 1991 – and continuing to his most recent – Player One: What Is To Become Of Us, published in 2010 – Coupland has explored various modern human crises including society, religion, identity, and the afterlife. His work has been described as everything from modernist, to post-modernist, to a new, undiscovered genre that has moved beyond post-modernism and into a different realm altogether. Published in 36 languages in countries around the world, Coupland’s unique literary style is proof that even the most eccentric ideas can be accepted by readers.

Player One is set in a dingy Toronto airport cocktail lounge in August 2010. The story is broken into five hours, and during each hour the plot advances. The story revolves around five strangers who are forced to seek shelter in the cocktail lounge after the price of oil rises drastically and results in an apocalyptic end to the modern world. Player One is incredibly difficult to force into a specific genre, but the most obvious categorization would be a cross between science fiction and literary fiction. The aspects of the story that are science fiction include the oil-induced apocalypse and a chemical storm cloud that threatens to destroy everything in its path. The literary fiction aspects are introduced later, when the characters begin to have in-depth, philosophical debates about life. In addition, there are aspects of romance, mystery, and horror present in the later hours of the novel, which make the story even more difficult to categorize.

As events gradually unfold, we learn more about each of the main characters. Karen, the first to be introduced, is a fortyish divorced mother travelling from Winnipeg to Toronto to meet a man she connected with on the Internet. Rick, the lounge’s bartender, is trying to overcome a drinking problem and reinvent himself. Luke, a troubled pastor, is on the run after cleaning out his congregation’s renovation fund. Rachel is a young woman devoid of personality who has come to the bar to find a man to impregnate her so she can attempt to be more human. Finally, the mysterious fifth voice – “Player One” – provides the reader with an overview of what will take place in the future at the end of each hour.

The novel is written in a very unique style. Instead of parts or chapters, Player One is broken into both hours that denote the passage of time and sections dedicated to the thoughts of each of the five main characters. Each section is written to reflect what each of the characters is going through as he or she attempts to survive in the lounge. Unfortunately, overlap between the sections backtracks the story. Even though each character experiences different things and takes part in different activities, they are all trapped together in a fairly small space. It is obvious that the characters will interact with each other frequently. Instead of glossing over what we have already learned from a previous character, Coupland reiterates the same scene from many different perspectives. This style is creative and original, and in some sections it works, but towards the end of the novel it becomes a technique that makes it easy to skip through pages in order to reach the conclusion.

It is evident that Coupland conducted detailed research before he began writing Player One. His efforts are most obvious when reading about Rachel, the beautiful yet emotionless robot of a girl who suffers from a variety of brain defects that prevent her mind from functioning as it should. Instead of glossing over the details, and hoping the reader will simply accept her condition, Coupland provides a list of defects that supply an in-depth account of what exactly Rachel suffers from. Some of her ailments include autism-related facial recognition blindness syndrome (which makes it impossible for her to tell faces apart), right-hemisphere brain lesions (which hinders her ability to appreciate things such as passion and humour), and mild OCD (which allows her to remember pi over one thousand digits) (97). Coupland explains all of Rachel’s brain issues through her own voice, which would be impossible to do if he hadn’t done his homework ahead of time.

Player One had been written for readers that must possess two key attributes. First, readers must be educated adults. This is evident because Coupland writes about deep, philosophical subjects throughout the novel. He assumes the reader is intelligent enough to keep up with the intellectual plot line, and doesn’t make an attempt to tone down his writing style so more people can understand the story. For example, on page 157, Bertis, a sniper temporarily seeking shelter in the lounge, explains to Karen that she has been tricked into not questioning her soul. He says the following: “Karen, tell me, what is the you of you? Where do you begin and end? This you thing... Is it a spirit? Is it electric? What exactly is it?” Even though the language is fairly simple, and the sentences are short and easy to read, the message behind the text is thoroughly complex. It takes an educated individual with life experience to properly dissect it, and conversations similar to the example above are present all through the novel.

Second, Player One readers must either possess a sarcastic sense of humour or a general ability to understand when someone is trying to be funny or ironic. Throughout the novel, Coupland creates many of his own words. He infuses them into the story seamlessly, and doesn’t explain that he is using words that don’t really exist. The back of the novel contains a glossary with definitions to each of the made-up words, but it is up to the reader to connect the two components together. Two of his most interesting definitions include deselfing, which Coupland defines as “willingly diluting one’s sense of self and ego by plastering the Internet with as much information as possible,” and me goggles, which is “the inability to accurately perceive ourselves as others do.” While understanding the words isn’t necessary to understand the novel itself, the reader gets a lot more out of the story if he or she is able to laugh at Coupland’s creative vocabulary.

Overall, Player One is an interesting novel that forces the reader to envision a post-apocalyptic world in an uncommon way. Instead of reading an overview about the decline of life as we know it, the story is limited to the lounge and the areas directly surrounding it. It is a fairly easy read, and at just over 200 pages it can be consumed in one or two sittings. The only downside is that some of the conversations become so long-winded they border on raving tangents. Coupland is obviously opinionated when it comes to discussing life, death, and everything in between, and his opinions shine through clearly in Player One. Some sections could have been shortened, and some conversations could have been left out altogether. The novel is definitely meant for Coupland fans, as well as readers of non-mainstream literature. But despite its shortcomings, Player One is worth reading, and anyone who picks it up will find something worth remembering amongst its pages.

*All images taken from Google.All thoughts are my own, and to not represent the opinions of RRC in any way.

My chance encounter with Dawna Friesen

I have been trying to write this post for a few weeks, but life has a tendency of getting in the way. My backup file of blog posts has taken a beating, and I have no choice but to start writing again.

On Thursday, October 21, 2010, the new anchor of Global National – Dawna Friesen – visited Red River College’s Princess Street Campus. You might be wondering why she chose to visit RRC, but the answer is quite simple. Friesen – along with a laundry list of other successful individuals – is a CreComm grad.

Last year, when she was still working as a foreign correspondent for NBC News, Friesen came to school and spoke to the first-year CreComm class. I found her to be interesting and engaging, and wanted to ask her many questions about her job. I didn’t, however, because I was still a new student. I was afraid I would look young and inexperienced, so I refrained from raising my hand. I also didn't introduce myself after her speech (which I desperately wanted to do), and left the lecture theatre with regrets instead.

So when I saw Friesen walking toward me after speaking to the first year students this time, I decided I wasn't going to let the moment pass. Along with my classmate Jasmine, we stopped Friesen, introduced ourselves, asked a few questions, and posed for a few photographs.

I wish I had worn my lovely black blazer, but otherwise I think it's a great picture!

She was nice, she was gracious, and I am so happy that I had the chance to speak with her. It's always inspiring when I meet someone who used to be in my shoes, and it makes me feel as though I can do anything I set my mind to.

If you want to know more about Dawna Friesen, this is a very informative story.

Aloha from Hawaii: Part Two

The snow is flying outside, which makes it a perfect time to continue my Hawaii blog series. This is the second entry. If you missed the first one, click here.

Here are a few of my favourite activities on Maui:

Kayaking & snorkeling is an amazing experience, and my brother and I went on a lengthy excursion one morning. I’m not going to say any more about it here, because I plan to write an entire blog post about the event, but trust me, it’s worth it.

Haleakala National Park boasts a wealth of outdoor activities. It is the park surrounding Haleakala, Maui’s volcano. It’s possible to either drive up a sketchy road to the summit (10,000 feet above sea level), or hop into a helicopter and see it from the sky. We opted to drive, which I highly recommend. You can see the vegetation as it changes from palm trees, to forest, to sparse greenery, to colourful rock that greatly resembles the surface of the moon. Unfortunately, both my brother and I suffered altitude sickness, and we weren’t able to do much walking around at the top.

The summit of the volcano. I took this photo and couldn't believe how beautifully it turned out.

It’s possible to go hiking into the summit on a long, hot, gruelling nine hour trek where there are no refreshments stands, medical personnel, or buildings that offer shade and air-conditioning. The hike is apparently beautiful, and if you can do it, go for it. I wanted to, but I had already started to wilt.

Lower down the mountain – but still in the national park – is one of the coolest zip line courses I’ve ever encountered. There is a series of five lines, and each one is progressively longer than the first. Chris and I were immediately interested in the course, and, by some miraculous intervening power, we convinced my mother (who is afraid of heights) to go with us.

This was one of my favourite moments on the island. I hate to admit it, but I got a serious kick out of watching my mom scream bloody murder as she made her way across the first line. I felt bad when she started to cry afterwards, but I think they were tears of joy because she was still alive. All of the other people with us were supportive, and by the end there were ten chants of “Susan, Susan,” as she made her way across.

Mom, I’m still proud that you actually did that. I thought we were going to have to call a helicopter and air-lift you out of there.

You must, must, must go to a luau, but I’ll admit that I didn’t find it the most enthralling experience. It might be the fact that I was forced to go on stage and learn the hula, coupled with the fact that I ate part of a pig out of a giant pit in the ground. (Ugh. I get grossed out just thinking about it) Either way, a luau is a Hawaiian tradition, and it must be experienced by anyone who visits the island.

The Road to Hana also must be done. At least once. It’s basically like the Cabot Trail in Canada on drugs, and is a seven hour drive along a terrifyingly winding road that follows the side of the mountain. If a vehicle were to fall off the side – a situation that does happen on occasion – they drop a long, long way. Sometimes, the fallen vehicle will eventually hit the ground, or some trees. Other times, it’s nothing but ocean baby.

Walk the beach at night. All around the coast of Maui is a network of connecting beaches. It’s actually possible to walk around the entire island without leaving the coastline. In addition to being blanketed with stars, many fishermen that work at local restaurants come out at night to catch what will be served the following day. They build up piles of sand to mount their fishing rods, attach bells on the ends to announce a bite, and sit back and spent the night drinking under the stars. Chris and I stumbled upon a group of men doing this one evening, and they invited us to sit, talk, and share a beer with them.

When it comes to shopping, my opinions are simple:

Visit Hilo Hattie and an ABC Store for tourist crap, buy Kona Coffee, and don’t buy anything on Main Street in Lahaina, the largest town on the island. They will purposely rip you off, so look around and compare prices before committing to anything.

(NOTE: Lahaina is home to the World’s Largest Banyan Tree, so be sure to check it out. It’s located at the end of Main Street. Find Bubba Gump’s Shrimp Factory, turn left, and keep walking till you see it. Trust me. Worth it. Occasionally, there are local craft fairs set up all around the tree, and this is where I did most of my souvenir shopping).

Overall impressions?

Hawaii is beautiful. Yes, it’s American, and yes, it’s touristy, but you’d be hard-pressed to find any major destination in this world that hasn’t been touched by advertising and commercialism. I’ve been to Maui twice, Honolulu once, and I would most definitely go back again. And again. Being in Hawaii made me feel like I was in my own personal paradise. It’s truly magical, and worth the time and money.

Aloha from Hawaii: Part One

The weather is quickly changing, so I've decided now would be a perfect time to begin posting my three-part series about my travels to Hawaii...

The first time I visited Hawaii, I was about 10 or 11 years old. I don’t remember many aspects of the visit, but if I close my eyes and focus my thoughts I can conjure images of rolling waves, palm trees, and sandy beaches.

The second time I visited Hawaii was in 2008. I was much older, and wanted to remember every detail, so I kept a diary of my daily thoughts and activities. I’m just writing about the experiences I had now, over two years later, so hopefully my mind won’t be too muddled.

Then again, some things are so beautiful that you never forget them...

During the first trip, my family and I stayed on two islands: Maui and Oahu. The second time, we spent all our time on Maui. There were a number of reasons why we decided not to go back to Honolulu, and here are the top three...

The same amount of money that landed us a large condo on the beach in Maui only provided two small hotel rooms in Honolulu, Oahu’s capital. That’s how expensive it is compared to Maui, which is known as one of the priciest tropical places to vacation in the world.

Honolulu was very crowded. It isn’t a small, quaint, beach side town. It’s a thriving metropolis with a resident population of 899,593 people as of 2004. That doesn’t include tourists, and in 2005, 4.5 million visited this city. There is also over 100,000 military personnel in Hawaii, most of which are also based in Honolulu.

The view from our lanai during the second trip to Maui in 2008.

We were located near the International Market and Waikiki Beach, but everything else that was of interest was a lengthy drive away. That didn’t really appeal to me.

But don’t get me wrong. I don’t regret visiting Honolulu. I won’t ever regret visiting anywhere. There were a few interesting places that we went, and my favourites were the Pearl Harbour Memorial and the Dole Plantation, also known as Hawaii’s “Pineapple Experience.”

So, Maui... where to start?

We stayed in a condo with a gorgeous view of the ocean between Kihei and Wailea, two trendy areas on the island. It was fully furnished, and came with a complete kitchen. This was a godsend, because food can get pricey. We actually discovered during our first shopping trip that it’s cheaper to purchase alcohol than milk. So... we drank. Also, who wants to eat in a restaurant for three meals every day? We were there for ten days, and wanted the opportunity to cook for ourselves.

My first recommendation if you’re going to Maui is this: shell out the extra cash to get a balcony (known as a “lanai” in Hawaiian) that is on the ocean with an ocean front view. Besides being able to watch the waves every single day, the Kihei side of the island is also where mother humpback whales teach their young to learn to swim. I swear that not a day went by when we didn’t see a pod of whales travel past our beach. We went on a whale watching tour the first time we visited Maui, but this was something different and far superior.

That's me, playing in the waves. My brother and I walked along the beach for hours every day.

My second recommendation is this: do things. I watched many families spend their entire trip lounging on the beach. Fine for them, but there are so many interesting things to do on the island. My family adopted a policy where we would relax one day and do something the next, and this worked well for everyone.

That's it for now. Stay tuned for part two!

85 and still rockin' out

On Thursday night, I watched a musician perform at Winnipeg's Centennial Concert Hall. It was absolutely fantastic, and I can't believe I saw a performer who has been on the stage for seventy years.

The performer was B.B.King. The man is 85 years old, and he first entered the music scene performing on a radio station in 1946. King has been going ever since.

He's #3 on Rolling Stone magazine's "100 greatest guitarists on all time" list, and has also been inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. He has performed in over 90 countries, and has witnessed more famous world events than I care to name.

Simply put, B.B.King is epic.

He looked that happy at when I saw him too. It's inspirational.*

At the concert, he sang, talked, played, and grooved from a chair set at centre stage. He talked about a variety of topics, including life, music, touring, and Viagra.

He was ecstatic to see a young boy sitting front row centre, and praised the boy's father and "young people" in general for keeping the music industry alive.

After the concert ended, King started signing autographs from the stage while the band continued to play softly in the background. He truly wanted to meet his fans, which I thought was very classy.

I hope I will have an opportunity to see this gentleman play again. I also hope that I will still be able to play the piano at 85. My life will be so much better if I can, and King looks like he's loving his life every single day.

*Image taken from the B.B. King website.

Two Face?

On October 29, 2010, a Chinese man boarded an Air Canada flight in Hong Kong bound for Vancouver.

Nothing out of the ordinary there.

The man was wearing a detailed silicone mask disguising him as an elderly white man. Mid-flight, the man went to the bathroom. When he returned to his seat, he had removed the disguise.

Alright, that's strange.

Before and after photos of the man. Image taken from an article published by CBCNews.com.

Now, the man is seeking asylum in Canada. His lawyer is also asking for the media to be banned from his client's immigration hearing to protect his identity. Apparently, information disclosed at the hearing might result in persecution or retribution from China.

The man used a brown cap, a cardigan, and the boarding pass of a U.S. citizen born in 1955 to board the plane. He was taken into custody by Canada Border Services Agency when the plane landed in Vancouver.

A few passengers on the plane apparently alerted the flight attendants to the man due to the fact that he had very "young looking hands." According to these passengers, the flight attendants did nothing. I don't put a lot of stock in what people say they did after an incident, but it will be interesting to see what happens as the event is investigated further.

If you want to read a great article about the issue, check out one from The Globe and Mail here.

I don't know how I feel about this issue. It seems very, very strange, and I can't wait until more information is available.

A Guide to European Bathrooms

It might seem like a personal thing to blog about, but trust me, bathrooms are important. They are especially important when one realizes that most public bathrooms in Europe require you to pay money to use them.

I travelled to 11 countries last summer, and encountered pretty much every type of bathroom imaginable. Here are some of the highlights:

The Pull Chain: This type of bathroom was the most common in England. It was basically what it sounds like... a regular toilet with a pull chain to flush. Not very scary, but weird the first time.

The Pod: These you will find in most countries. Some are much cleaner than others, but I would recommend this only as a last resort. Some pods are located on the street, usually outside of a public park or square. Others – like the one I am still trying to forget in Rome – are located inside subway stations.

The interesting thing about a pod is that it cleans itself after a person exits. Water covers every single surface, sanitizing the entire interior for the next person. While this sounds good in theory, everything is usually left wet. The floor, the seat, and even the toilet paper... if there is any. If it’s a desperate situation, go ahead, but otherwise, I would hold it. Indefinitely, if necessary.

The pod bathroom. This one is in Paris, but they're found all over Europe.

The German Deathtrap: In Germany, I discovered the most high-tech bathrooms I have ever seen. You have to pay, like everywhere, and only a 50 Euro cent coin is accepted. There are two turnstiles, similar to the ones you would see at a subway station. You put the coin into a slot, and a ticket comes out. You then put the ticket into a second slot, and the turnstile is movable. On the way out, you put the same ticket into another slot, and the turnstile moves the other way. Simple, yes?

Unfortunately, I somehow managed to lose my ticket in the bathroom, and couldn’t get out. I ended up ducking under the turnstile, and the barrage of people yelling angrily in German taught me that people just don’t do that. If no one is around, by all means, duck under. We did this in Dresden. But, if other people are present, just pay the money. We want Europeans to like us.

The Squat Toilet: We encountered these mostly in France, believe it or not, but I hear they are all over Europe. There are two footprint markers, one on either side of the hole in the floor, that mark where you are supposed to put your feet. This type of bathroom is definitely not for the squeamish, but it’s not so bad... as long as you have good balance!

The Modified Squat Toilet: This is what they do in Italy. It is still a toilet, but the seat has been removed. What the hell is the point of that? It’s basically just a glorified hole in the floor.

It was also in Italy that I experienced my first co-ed bathroom. My friend Steve and I were both having a serious emergency in Venice – as a result of too much Pinot Grigio – and asked a waiter is we could please use the facilities in his restaurant. He said yes, which is very surprising, and we hauled ass to the back. Then, to our dismay, we discovered one stall and one urinal in the same room. Steve is married, and far too polite to share a bathroom with me, so I got to go first.

When I emerged from the stall, the waiter from the restaurant was waiting for me. In the bathroom. Needless to say, that was the last time I used co-ed facilities in Europe.

The Wall: My brother encountered this is Austria. He needed to find the bathroom, and a man directed him towards the “pissoire,” as it was so eloquently labelled in English. What my brother found was literally a wall behind the women’s bathroom.

There are a few other important things I must point out regarding bathrooms before I can completely end this blog entry. They are as follows:

Toilet paper: It will always be hit and miss. Some bathrooms will have it, and some won’t. To be safe, I carried around a portable pack of Kleenex wherever I went. This came in handy repeatedly, and you will forever be someone’s hero if you have bathroom tissue when they have none. Also, a bottle of hand sanitizer is a good idea, especially if you are dealing with a pod or hole in the floor.

Universal lingo: Don’t call it a “bathroom” or “washroom” like we do here in Canada. Some people might understand you, but the majority will not. WC, or water closet, is the most commonly used expression throughout Europe. You can try to learn how to say it in different languages, but almost everyone will understand the phrase WC.

The wonder that is a free bathroom: Hotel rooms, museums, and restaurants are your best opportunities to find decent bathroom facilities. You must pay to use these amenities, so you might as well get your money’s worth. If you are looking for a free bathroom on the streets - which is very rare, I assure you – try a North American chain. In Prague, Jeff and I found a free bathroom in Starbucks. In Berlin, we found one inside a Dunkin Donuts.

Find a North American chain. It will save you a bit of money!

Bathroom attendants: Sometimes there is a person (usually a woman), standing or sitting outside the bathroom door. Sometimes they are inside, handing out towels, and other times they are simply staring at you sourly. No matter what the case is, this person is the bathroom attendant. Whether you like it or not, you have to give this person a tip. It can be pennies, or it can be a Euro, but do it.

Always have a 50 Euro cent coin handy: This is currently the standard cost of bathrooms in Europe. Most will take a combination of coins, but for some – like the ones in Germany – you need exact change. Also, if you hand a bathroom attendant a 1 Euro coin, don’t expect change.

I hope that this information will be helpful to someone in the future. If not, I hope it was entertaining. Living in Canada, I took for granted things like free bathrooms. I never will again, and I think I might actually be a bit traumatized.

Images taken from Google.

The key to Comic Con

My Halloween weekend was packed full of interesting events that reminded me there is in fact a world beyond CreComm and homework.

It began with A Taste of Italy, a wine tasting event at the Fairmont Hotel. My co-conspirator Ashton managed to score us both a job handing out 300 name tags to the upper echelons of Winnipeg society for four hours in the afternoon. It was an amazing networking experience, and hopefully I'll be remembered by at least one person I met when I apply for jobs after graduation.

After the event, Ashton, Tiffany (who we acquired in the hotel lobby), and I rushed back to my apartment. We quickly changed into our costumes for what would be the most epic wedding/Halloween social in the history of wedding/Halloween socials. My good friends Ty and Kristen are getting married, and they wisely decided to have a theme social. It was absolutely fantastic, and probably the best I've ever attended.

But, the part of the weekend that taught me the most about life was my Saturday excursion to Central Canada Comic Con. I promised Tiffany that I would go with her to promote her blog - The Spockette's Star Trek Review - which I was a guest star on last month. I even went as far as to dress up in a red Star Trek shirt, high-waisted black skirt and tights. It was important to look like a "Trekkie," otherwise no one would take me seriously.

And seriously, the outfit is everything.

Tiff dressed in a similar costume, and she added Vulcan ears for a more dramatic effect. Initially, we approached people to hand out the postcards and magnets Tiff had prepared. After a while - when people realized we hadn't left yet - we started to be approached by a wide range of people.

Everyone wanted to talk Star Trek, and we shot twenty minutes of video in under an hour. I got into a fight with one lovely gentleman about which Star Trek Captain is the superior Captain, which was a debate I never, ever thought I would have with a stranger.

It's Picard, by the way. Patrick Stewart can do anything.

I learned a lot this past weekend. First, there are a lot of things out there besides homework, homework, homework. I've barely been treading water the past few weeks, and it's nice to know that a life will be waiting for me when I finish CreComm.

Second, Comic Con is no small matter. People spent hours preparing their costumes for the event, and to arrive in improper attire is just not good enough. I don't think that I would have been able to talk as effectively to as many people if I was wearing normal street clothes, which taught me a valuable PR lesson. When promoting an event, a person, or a blog, the public relations professional must fully get behind whatever it is he or she is promoting. If you don't believe what you're "selling," no one else will.

Comic Con was an interesting experience. I will attend again next year, and I won't forget that the costume is the key to having a great time.

The big two-oh-oh

I’ve been so busy the last three weeks that I didn’t even notice I reached my 200th blog post until my good friend Ashton pointed it out in class this past Monday.

The Hope Files has been alive for about a year and two months, and I have to say that I am absolutely in love with this blog. It has surpassed every ambitious dream I had, and it is truly something that I am proud of. Of course, I wouldn’t have continued to post entries if I didn’t have followers, so thank you to everyone who has read what I have deemed important enough to share over the past year.

To celebrate the 200 mark, I decided to dig through my archives and relive some of my past posts. I sifted my favourite five from 2009 out of the collection, and would like to share them with you now. I want to remind my readers about some of the things I talked about in earlier posts, and I think these particular ones illustrate the range of topics I have covered the best.

FIVE: Trash the Dress!
ORIGINALLY POSTED: October 10, 2009
INFO: This post highlights a website that specializes in pictures of brides who have chosen to trash their wedding dresses in order to obtain cool photos. It only received five comments, but people were definitely talking about it. It also gave me a number of ideas for my own wedding photos, and was generally a short but fun read.

FOUR: Manitoba’s Hidden Gems: Marconi School
ORIGINALLY POSTED: September 11, 2009
INFO: This was my first official history post, and I had the greatest time writing it. I am a die-hard history-lover (like that isn’t obvious), and I was so excited when I realized that this blog can be a forum for me to discuss history unapologetically.

The interior of Marconi School. It's still in fantastic condition.

THREE: My Travels: London
ORIGINALLY POSTED: November 6, 2009

INFO: This was the first blog in my travel series. It introduced my trip to Europe – which I had just returned from two months previously – and provided pictures, details, and insight about the city. I have written 22 additional travel blogs since, and have 11 more waiting to be posted.

Me in front of Tower Bridge. No, this is not the London Bridge. That bridge is the next one.

TWO: Where Do All The Road Cones Go?
ORIGINALLY POSTED: November 20, 2009
INFO: This was a tongue-in-cheek musing about what happens to road cones after construction season is finished for the winter. The best part was that someone from the City of Winnipeg actually contacted me regarding the post, and wanted to discuss my query further. It was part of my General Interest section, where I talk about whatever is on my mind.

ONE: Must Creativity Equal Instability?
ORIGINALLY POSTED: September 14, 2009
INFO: This post discusses a number of creative individuals who died tragically as a result of drugs, suicide, mental illness, or a combination of the above. I talk about everyone from Heath Ledger, to Elliott Smith, to Vincent Van Gogh. It started quite the discussion, had 16 comments, and got people talking about important issues.

Also, I wrote an About Me blog this past summer. If you’re a new reader, and would like to know a little bit more about who I am, check it out!

P.S. I feel I should give a shout out to “Amanda’s Mom.” She comments on both my posts and my classmates posts, and she’s been a dedicated follower since the beginning. Thanks Amanda’s Mom, whoever you are. Your support is greatly appreciated.

Happy Halloween!

Pride & Prejudice... and Zombies

This is one of those moments when I’m kicking myself for not coming up with a fantastic idea first. It’s like the pool noodle attachments that were so popular when I was growing up. My friends and I were using duct tape to connect pool noodles together for years, but we never thought it was something that could be marketed.

Here's one of the not-so-zombified book covers. Not very scary, right?

To end zombie week on my blog, I want to pay homage to a hilarious novel that is worth purchasing. Pride and Prejudice and Zombies infuses a classic narrative and a modern fad to create a strangely appealing final product. Both Jane Austen and Seth Grahame-Smith are credited as the authors. The original novel was published in 1813, and the modern, “adjusted” version was released in 2009. The plot of Pride and Prejudice and Zombies is more or less the same, except that various zombie and ninja elements have been added.

For some reason, my brother and I have had a thing for zombies since we were kids. Maybe it’s the whole “undead” superiority thing. Or, maybe we just needed a break from the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Either way, learning about zombie culture is something we have done since we were young. I can’t express our excitement level when this novel came out, and I was not disappointed after I read it the first time. I recommend it to everyone, even if you aren’t a zombie fanatic like me. It’s truly an entertaining read.

The new cover. See what I mean? It's just great...

Here’s a piece of advice if you actually purchase the novel: Buy the original and the zombie edition. Get a group of people together, and take turns reading paragraphs from each novel aloud. It’s so much fun, and you can actually see where changes were made.

*All images taken from Google.

P.S... Do you think it should be "zombified" or "zombiefied?" I can't decide which way to go...

How to Survive a Zombie Outbreak

DISCLAIMER: The events in the following essay have not yet happened. This was an assignment for one of my classes, so do not be alarmed when you read the part about everyone you love being dead. This following is a How-To essay designed to teach the public what to do WHEN a zombie outbreak occurs. Print it out, put it in your wallet or purse, and ensure you can refer to it quickly in the event of an emergency. You will be glad you did. Good luck to us all...

The world, as we know it, has ended. Either a massive flu virus has broken out, or a deadly, unknown disease has escaped from a high security facility. Regardless, the majority of humans are now deceased. Unfortunately, those who died have not remained dead, and instead have begun to roam the planet in search of living people on which to feed. Simply stated, you are now being hunted by creatures commonly referred to as zombies. And depending on the virus or disease that infected them, you are either being hunted by slow, stupid, awkward zombies, or fast, screaming, infected-with-rage zombies. But do not panic. The following is a guide of three easy steps that must be understood in order to survive a zombie outbreak. Do not refer to books such as “The Zombie Survival Guide,” or “World War Z," because that information is not up-to-date. Following this three-step system is paramount, and complying with the information might just save you from becoming someone’s dinner.

The first step to surviving a zombie outbreak is acceptance of the situation. This is much easier said than done, as most people will have a difficult time when they realize everyone they have ever cared about is most likely dead. A variety of emotions will occur as you struggle to make sense of what has happened. Crying or hysteria will occur almost immediately; shock and fear will follow soon after. Next, rage will take over, and this is the emotion that can be the most problematic. Many people will want to grab the first available weapon-like object and destroy every zombie around as a way to avenge the deaths of loved ones. It is paramount that you fight this urge. Angry weapon wielding usually results in a zombie-inflicted injury, leaving you in the same position as those you lost. Find some way to stay occupied, and allow anger to pass like the previous emotions. If you successfully work through the rage phase without getting yourself killed, feelings of acceptance and calmness will take over. This is good, as it means you are now ready to move forward.

The second, and most important step to zombie survival, is preparation. If a zombie outbreak were ever to actually occur, the government would set up a recovery plan. This means help will arrive, sooner or later, and all you need to do is stay alive until you are found. To do this, preparation is necessary. First, find the nearest police station or military base, and stock up on the following: guns, ammunition, swords, machetes, various explosives, blow torches, and a bow and arrow. Next, locate the nearest department store, and collect canned food, bottled water, first-aid supplies, flashlights, batteries, a portable radio, and rope. Load everything into a dependable, working vehicle. Hopefully, you will be far away before the zombies are attracted by the noise of the car engine. Fill up at the nearest gas station, and fill as many portable gas cans as humanly possible. Finally, begin driving to the nearest body of water where large boats are moored.It is a known fact that zombies are unable to swim. They will attempt to follow you into the water, but will gradually drown. This is precisely why in step three it is necessary to find both a sailboat and lots of water. Technically, any type of boat would do in a desperate situation, but a sailboat eliminates the problem of running out of gas. Pack the boat with the supplies you have collected, and set sail through your chosen body of water. Do not follow an approach similar to that highlighted in the movie Dawn of the Dead, where survivors hide in a local mall. This is short-term solution, as zombies will gradually surround your hideout and make escape impossible. Help will arrive eventually, and waiting on the water where zombies cannot reach you will increase the chance of survival. It is important, however, to be on the lookout at all times. Do not assume you are safe simply because you are on the water.

Attempting to live through a zombie outbreak can be a trying and terrifying experience for anyone. This is why it is extremely important to fully understand and implement the three easy steps that make survival possible. Allotting adequate time for acceptance, preparation, and escape will separate you from those who do not have a serious will to live. The well-organized steps and industrious methods you exhibit may even impress the rescue teams, resulting in a high-ranking political position in the post-zombie world. Following the zombie outbreak how-to guide will not only save your life, it will steer you towards a more powerful future. Just remember to choose your survival partners carefully, and when killing zombies, aim for the head.

*All images taken from Google. All ideas compiled from years of zombie-related research.

A zombie flash mob extravaganza

Ever since I saw the YouTube video of people randomly dancing to The Sound of Music soundtrack in a train station, I have been hooked on the concept of flash mobs.

There is something about a group of people getting together and performing for strangers that I find fantastic. I also have the same attitude towards bridal parties that break into dance at various times during their wedding-day activities. My love of flash mobs is so serious that I even included one as part of a recent PR proposal for Winnipeg Harvest. But despite my obsession with random acts of dancing, I haven’t personally taken part in a flash mob until I joined hundreds of other Winnipeggers on the Zombie Walk this past Saturday evening.

Now, it isn’t technically a real flash mob, but I’m pretty sure “flash mob” is a loose definition. There don’t seem to be a lot of rules when it comes to spontaneously breaking into dance, song, or other activity.

We all gathered in an alleyway behind The Royal Albert at around 8 p.m. on October 23, and listened as a group of people gave speeches and pumped us up from a series of fire escapes snaking up the side of one of the buildings. The most popular chant was “brains” by far, although I prefer “uuurrrggghhh” myself. There were death-related signs everywhere, and a live band was playing in the back.

In our group of three, I had the least interesting costume. Deciding at the last minute to purchase a trench coat from Value Village – because for some reason I felt that would make me look “scarier” – I think I was a goth/vampire who was having an identity crisis by thinking she was a zombie. My boyfriend – the ever-industrious costume creator – went as a zombie cow (or mad cow, whichever you prefer). Tiffany, in true Star Trek blogger style, went as a zombie Vulcan complete with utility belt, communicator, and phaser. Both their costumes were so fantastic that everyone wanted pictures of them. Thus, I became popular by association.

(P.S. When I just wrote “Vulcan” in Microsoft Word, spell check automatically capitalized the word. That’s how far the reach of Star Trek has gone. “Vulcan” is officially a proper name.)

Walking down Portage Avenue with a massive line of people “in character” as zombies is an experience I will never forget. My mind flashed back to psychology class in first-year university, and for some reason the definition of “groupthink” popped into my head:

Groupthink is a psychological phenomenon that can occur in groups of people. Rather than critically evaluating information, the group members begin to form quick opinions that match the group consensus. Groupthink is sometimes positive but is more often seen in a negative light. Mass hysteria can be seen as an extreme example of groupthink.

Winnipeg Police were directing traffic and shutting down side streets as we walked, and I found out later that this wasn’t initially planned. They thought we were having a rally behind The Albert, and didn’t actually know the Zombie Walk was taking place until our line of people stretched from the starting point to the MTS Centre. I felt bad because we were cutting off cars and walking through green lights, but most people stuck in traffic seemed to be enjoying themselves.

Overall, the Zombie Walk was fantastic. I will attend again next year, and I am so excited that my first flash mob experience was with hundreds of other Winnipeggers who understand the importance of zombie culture.

If you want to read the Winnipeg Free Press article about the walk, click here.

Die long and prosper... Happy Halloween.

Quirky billboards provide inspiration

I'm currently working on a billboard for a proposal assignment in radio class. It's safe to say that when it come to artistic design, I have no skills.

Last year, I had to painfully force myself through Desktop Publishing class. It's interesting learning how to use Photoshop and InDesign, but for some reason I just can't come up with my own creative ideas.

I've come to the conclusion that I can write... but I can't design. Therefore, I needed to search online for popular billboards in order to draw some inspiration. Below are a few of my favourites.

I never considered using the actual billboard light for effect, but it's definitely working here...

This one got a lot of attention, and I can see why...

It's the perfect way to describe an iPod.

And I think this one is just fun.

If I were braver, I would post my billboard on here too, and see if you can figure out which one is mine. You could (it's not that great), but I can say that I feel I am slowly learning what works and what doesn't. I'll never have amazing design skills, or create an award-winning layout or advertisement, but I think I'm content being the person who writes the eloquently-phrased news releases in the background.

*All images taken from Google.

Market research at the mall

I have never been one of those people who like to spend an extended period of time at the mall. Also, there is absolutely no way that I would ever be at a mall on a Monday morning unless it was for a school assignment. Therefore, I was shocked to see how many people were at Polo Park Shopping Centre (Polo Park) at 10:30 a.m. on October 18, 2010.

There were an eclectic variety of people from many different backgrounds at Polo Park this past Monday. The majority of mall patrons were senior citizens, and they were usually in groups of two or three. They didn’t seem to have a specific purchasing goal in mind, and appeared to be using the outing as a social experience. There were also a number of parents – specifically mothers – walking around with young children. In addition, I noticed a few groups of teenagers (who looked like they were skipping school), some well-off, non-working women, and a number of business professionals.

When watching each of the different types of mall patrons shop, I noticed that most people could be placed in two different categories. First, there were the “committed purchasers.” They were the people who were at the mall with a list of specific items to buy, and they moved purposefully from store to store. People in this category were primarily business professionals and parents with children, however, there were a few senior citizens and teens that seemed like they were on a mission as well.

Committed purchasers made decisions in record time, and one woman was in and out of Sephora in seven minutes with perfume, lipstick, and eye shadow. It appeared that she had already previously decided what she wanted, and was simply coming to the mall to pick it all up. I noticed no common patterns in what committed purchasers were selecting, and the only similar thread was the fact that they all seemed rushed, slightly impatient, and eager to move on to the next store.

Second, there were a number of “random browsers.” These were the people who obviously had nowhere to be and nothing specific to do. They seemed to be simply enjoying the fact that they could peruse the array of clothing, shoes, and accessories the mall sells undisturbed and unmolested by crowds. People in this category were primarily senior citizens and truant teenagers. I couldn’t determine much about their purchasing decisions or patterns because I didn’t actually see a random browser buy anything. I even went as far as to follow one elderly lady into three separate stores, but she left the mall disappointingly empty-handed.

I attempted to speak to a sales associate in Lululemon, and I was unceremoniously shut down. She told me that employees aren’t allowed to speak to customers about shopping trends, and I should contact the public relations department with my inquiry. This answer seemed strange, so I talked to a sales associate in GUESS as well. She was much more helpful, and actually wanted to answer my questions. I asked about discounts, and she stated that a customer would usually be interested in a sale if there were a savings over 10 per cent. Twenty per cent and up were the most favourable sales, she explained, but Winnipeggers will pretty much get out of bed for anything, including free garbage.

My favourite store to shop at was Lululemon. The organization was simple, it was easy to find what I was looking for, and it wasn’t too crowded. I like the fact that the clothing is organized by item. The pants were in the pants section, the shirts were in the shirt section, and sweatshirts and jackets were at the front. GUESS was also organized well, and it was easy for me to find both casual clothing and dress clothing because they were each in their own section. Also, the service at both stores was very friendly, and this made me enjoy the experience even more.

No matter where I go, or what I do, my favourite store will always be Swarovski. When I was in Europe last summer I visited the headquarters in Austria and absolutely fell in love with the brand. Everything is so shiny, so regal, and so gorgeous. I spent 20 minutes inside the store at Polo Park, and it was great. In addition to having a beautifully laid out selection of items, the sales associates were incredibly friendly. They kept mentioning that I should be having fun as I’m shopping, and that it’s fine to try things on without purchase because Swarovski jewellery is meant to be experienced. I think that was a very effective sales tactic, and I would have bought something if I wasn’t a starving student with no money.

In Sephora, I actually purchased a $24 tube of lip-gloss. It was an impulse buy that I can’t really afford, but I was mesmerized by the Parisian Moulin Rouge display that accompanied the line of beauty products. After returning to school, I eagerly pulled out my purchase to show it to a few classmates. Imagine my surprise when the item I pulled out of the box was NOT my beloved lip-gloss, but a completely different and thoroughly ugly tube of lip plumper. It had apparently been labeled incorrectly, and I was furious. As mentioned at the beginning of this report, I’m really not a mall person. Now, I have to get on a bus and go all the way back to Polo Park to return the item and – hopefully – get the correct one. That isn’t how I envisioned ending this assignment, and I definitely won’t be purchasing anything from Sephora again as a result.

Overall opinion: People shopping at a mall on a Monday morning largely don’t have anywhere else they need to be. While this is slightly depressing, it is also a huge advertising opportunity, and holding sales and promotions during this time would drastically increase traffic.