Visiting Chicago: Round Two

Almost exactly a year ago I spent three fantastic days in Chicago. I fell in love with the city and experienced so many new and exciting things. So when the opportunity arose to go to Chicago again this year, I knew immediately I was going back.

After the trip last year, I wrote two very detailed blog posts about my travels. I thought they might be interesting to those coming on the trip for the first time this year.

If you would like to read the first post, click here. And, if you would also like to read the second post, click here.

In just under a week I'll return to the Windy City, and I can't wait! Get ready Chicago. I'm baaack!

Reducing my carbon footprint in Winnipeg

I really hate driving downtown every day.

Taking the bus doesn't bother me - and I really do prefer it - but I don't want to take the bus when I have three bags full of stuff (including a laptop, lunch, portable hard drive and camera) that I have to carry on and off the bus with me. I look like a pack mule. It's slightly ridiculous.

Working at IISD for my work placement has taught me a lot about living environmentally-friendly. Almost every single person in my office cycles to work throughout the year, resorting to the bus or carpooling only during the winter months. I admire that about my current co-workers, and it has made me realize that complaining about carrying "too much stuff" is an excuse that most people make so they don't have to try to be more eco-friendly.

This is part of the reason why I've decided to attempt to start riding my bike to and from work every day. It is only 10 km from my front door to my new job at MPI, and I'm pretty sure I could do that in well under an hour.

There are, however, two concerns I have regarding this new idea.

1. Wardrobe changes - I'm pretty sure MPI doesn't have showers or change rooms or anything to support an employee who wants to bike to work. IISD has all of the above, and employees are given time to change and get ready for his or her day. I'll have to carry my work clothes in my backpack, and change at the office.
2. Pembina Highway - There isn't a clearly marked bike corridor on this main thoroughfare, and I've heard horror stories of cyclists getting clipped, knocked over or flat out hit by frustrated commuters during rush hour. It is illegal to bike on the sidewalk - because bikes are technically considered to be "vehicles" - but the prospect of travelling all the way down Pembina every day makes me very, very nervous.

Please, City of Winnipeg, we need a bike path or a clearly marked bike corridor down Pembina Highway from the University of Winnipeg to Osborne. Please. PLEASE!

Today, I'm going to do a "pre-bike" to work in an attempt to determine IF I can complete the trip with my bike, my self and my backpack intact. I also want to see what it's like biking down a busy road during the day.

Wish me luck! And don't worry, I'm wearing a helmet.

The Lake Winnipeg eutrophication problem

Every summer when I was younger, I looked forward to the two weeks my family spent at Winnipeg Beach. As soon as we arrived at our cottage, I would drop my bags at the door, kick off my shoes, and race towards the nearest pier. Reaching the wide platform at the end, I would hop down the stairs two at a time until my legs were immersed in the chilly water. Looking out towards the large expanse of water, I would spend a moment re-introducing myself with one of my favourite places in the world.

Unfortunately, many people have stopped running towards the water. The condition of Lake Winnipeg has been deteriorating for years, leaving many people with fears that it will one day be deemed “un-swimmable.”

The lake at its finest. This is what I remember...

Lake Winnipeg suffers from eutrophication, a condition that occurs when nutrients accumulate and begin affecting a body of water. It can be a natural process, which is usually very slow and gradual, or can result from human activities, including deposits of human sewage and agricultural wastes. In some advanced cases, blooms of algae begin to grow. They disrupt normal functioning of the lake and decrease oxygen when they decompose, which makes it difficult for fish and other living organisms to survive. The water becomes cloudy, and is usually green, red, brown or yellow in colour.

Eutrophication has been detected in lakes in countries all over the world, including Spain, Portugal, Italy and Greece. According to a 2008 study from the University of Alberta, forty-eight per cent of lakes in North America are experiencing some form of eutrophication. Lake Winnipeg is the tenth largest freshwater lake (by surface area) in the world, and a variety of small communities are situated along its shore.

Two well-known communities located at Lake Winnipeg are Winnipeg Beach and Grand Beach. Each year, thousands of families vacation in these communities and take advantage of the amenities.

While there are still many things to keep people occupied, both communities are a far cry from what they used to be. Development of Winnipeg Beach, situated on the west side of the lake, began in 1900.

At its peak, it boasted a train station, dance pavilion, roller coaster and boardwalk. The Canadian Pacific Railway (CPR) began transporting passengers to the town in 1903. The opposite side of the lake followed suit in 1914. The CPR’s rival – the Canadian National Company – began running trains to Grand Beach, and built a lakeside resort and dance pavilion. Cottage communities grew on both sides of the lake, and before long, Lake Winnipeg was one of the most popular places to spend time in Manitoba.

Veronica Kitt spent the summers of her childhood at her family cottage in Winnipeg Beach. Her family moved to the lake as soon as school finished for the summer in June, and would stay until the August long weekend. Many other families followed the same procedure.

The only mode of practical transportation from the city to Winnipeg Beach was the train. There were numerous stops along the route, and Kitt remembers getting off at the 1^st Avenue train station in Sandy Hook.

Families brought necessary items from home, but everything else could be purchased at the lake. An Eaton’s catalogue was available to summer residents, and everything including food, clothing, and household items could be shipped to cottages. A transfer company could be hired to move all a family’s belongings from Winnipeg to the lake, and another company would pick up, wash, and drop off laundry.

“Everything was at your fingertips,” Kitt said with a smile. “It was wonderful.”

Some of Kitt’s fondest memories included walking into downtown Winnipeg Beach, going on the roller coaster, walking along the boardwalk, and visiting the dance pavilion. She also remembers visiting the community centre every night, and it was always bustling with activity.

“We didn’t need caregivers or anything. You just went,” she said.

When asked about the current condition of the lake, Kitt stated that not much has changed.

“Kids used to always get sick, and my mom called it ‘summer complaint.’ But it was just a part of the summer. I don’t think the lake has changed at all.”

Parts of the lake now...

Kitt expressed sadness that spending time at Lake Winnipeg is not as popular as it was in the past. She was also sorry that relics from the past no longer exist.

“One day there’s a train, the next day there’s no train,” she said sadly. “It’s too bad that things have changed.”

To be continued...

Local author fuelled my desire to publish

Ever since I was a little girl, I’ve been in awe of authors. It amazes me that people can actually write something, have it published, and have other people purchase and read it.

I have wanted to be a writer for as long as I can remember, so I was thoroughly excited – and more than a little giddy – when I met Winnipeg poet, Ron Romanowski.

I have known Ron and his wife, Lil, my entire life. But, I hadn’t seen them for years. We were reunited for the first time last May at Aqua Books, where Ron gave a reading from his third book of poetry – Insurrection – as part of a larger presentation.

If you would like to read the blog entry I wrote about that, click here.

On Wednesday, May 4, Ron will be launching his fourth poetry collection. It is titled The Big Book of Canadian Poetry, and here is the back cover write-up:

"In March of 2009 six Winnipeg poets met to forge a new direction for poetry in Canada. They wanted to instigate a more public focus to Canadian poetry. They wanted to write the Canadian poetry of the strike, the carnival, the revolution and the flash mob. They proceeded by studying the sociology of groups in the works of Dario Fo, Mikhail Bakhtin, Rebecca Solnit and others. They did practical research by attending some of Winnipeg’s many festivals and political and other mass events. New Festival Theory is what they call their philosophy. But their practice is poetry. The Big Book of Canadian Poetry is the brash and challenging debut from the New Festival crew.”

If you are looking for something cultural or artistic to do on May 4^th, please check out Ron’s book launch and show your support. I’m sure it will be a fantastic event, and I’m so excited to read his FOURTH book of poetry.

Click here, to check out the poetry trailer for the book launch.

Congratulations, Ron! I can’t wait for my autographed copy of The Big Book Of Canadian Poetry so I can start reading!

Today in history: "Iceberg, right ahead!"

I’m sure that most people are aware of the significance of April 14th. It was on this day – 99 years ago – that the world’s most famous ocean liner struck an iceberg.

I have been a Titanic-lover since I was a little girl. Even before the movie was released in 1997, I wanted to learn everything possible about the disaster. I would watch every single documentary I could get my hands on, and take notes as I learned new facts. By the time I moved away from my Titanic addiction, I had filled three binders with information.

Below, I have included a few Titanic facts that I find interesting. They are from the collection of information I accumulated over the years*, and I hope you find them interesting…

• The Titanic struck the iceberg at 11:40 p.m. on April 14, 1912.
• It took 2 hours and 40 minutes to completely sink.
• There were roughly 2,200 people on board the Titanic. Only 705 survived.
• One of the first boats to leave the Titanic carried only 28 people. They were designed to hold over 60.
• There were six iceberg warnings received by the Titanic on the day of the sinking.
• The ship could have stayed afloat if four of the watertight compartments flooded. Unfortunately, five flooded.
• The watertight compartments were actually not watertight at all. They were open at the top, which caused a wave to flood over each compartment as the ship sank.
• The cost to build the ship was $7.5 million and it took 3,000 men two years.

*The information included in the above statistics comes from many different sources.

"Pieces" Book Launch Video

Here is the video of footage from my book launch. It was edited by my friend and classmate - Jeff Ward - who also filmed the entire event. It's a small snapshot of what was definitely the most amazing evening of my life, so I hope you love it!

I will also be editing a longer video this summer that includes all of the speeches, the questions and the signing line at the end. Stay tuned!

This is the end...

Last year, at the end of first term, my classmate Christa Campbell wrote something kind about everyone in our class and posted it on her blog.

I initially planned to copy her idea, but after careful consideration I decided it would take forever to write about every single person I’ve taken classes with over the last two years. It’s impossible to sum up most of my peers in only a few words, and I could write an essay about each and every one of them.

Instead, I decided to write a post about the end of CreComm and how I feel about it…

I can still remember the first day of school like it was yesterday. I was terrified. I wondered what the hell I had gotten myself into, and I was intently eyeing the exit. We were given “the talk” that basically underlined the fact that our personal lives had just been thrown out the door for the duration of our college education. We were told to fix any personal issues in our lives immediately, as well as take care of the little things like doctor and dentist appointments.

God, was I glad I listened.

I have never – in my entire life - been as stressed as I was during CreComm. There were moments when I thought my head was going to explode, and days when I wanted to sit in a corner and cry my eyes out. I frequently uttered the phrase “there is NO way I’m going to finish all this,” but somehow, I always managed to hand everything in on time.

And, I managed to make it through two years of CreComm without an auto fail.

For those of you reading this blog who aren’t familiar with auto fails, let me explain. When a student spells a proper name incorrectly (e.g. Tim Hortons, the Winnipeg Free Press, etc…) they automatically are deducted 50 per cent on the assignment. Usually, there are additional marks taken off for everyday issues, which means the student automatically fails that assignment.

Almost everyone in CreComm gets them. Except me…

My time in the program was amazing. I wouldn’t trade it for anything, and I would do it again in a second. I met people that I know will be my friends for the rest of my life, and we bonded and grew together in a way that I didn’t realize was possible.

I have hated goodbyes since I was a teenager, so I’m going to end this blog post now.

CreComms: I love you, I’ll miss you, and I can’t wait for both the CCMA’s and convocation when we are all together again.

Lots of love,

Ama

(Note: I DID hand in my last PR assignment on Monday, and I don’t know for SURE yet that I didn’t auto fail it. I am assuming I did not, but I won’t know for sure for a few weeks…)

"Pieces" Book Trailer

It's taken me forever, but here is the trailer for my book!

It was edited by my good friend - Adam Smitzniuk - who was nice enough to humour me for an afternoon and look at about a hundred black and white photos. He's my CreComm hero, and he did a fantastic job on this trailer.

"Pieces" Book Trailer from Adam Smitzniuk on Vimeo.

Beatlemania: Part Two

This is the second part of a two-part story. To read the first part, click here.

“We used to date,” she replied matter-of-factly. My jaw dropped. He was easily 200 pounds heavier than my five-foot blonde friend. He also looked about twenty years older, but Sheryl always did have a different taste in men.

“I’m going to stay here with him,” Sheryl continued. “You don’t need me around anyway. Burt said to go straight through that door and you’ll walk down a long hallway to the green room. If anyone gives you trouble, tell them he sent you.”

I nodded nervously. It was up to me now.

Surprisingly, I faced very little opposition as I attempted to gain access to the green room. A few security guards gave me a once-over, but no one asked who I was or where I was going. Before I had a chance to process what was happening, I had turned a doorknob, opened a door, and found myself in the Beatles green room. And, it appeared that the Beatles had already arrived.

I couldn’t find Ringo, but Paul and John were telling a group of girls a story. There were about fifteen of them, and they were – of course – giggling uncontrollably. A number of other girls milled around the room, obviously waiting for their turn to attempt to capture the band members’ attention. Their presence didn’t matter to me, however, because sitting across the room, on a chair by himself, was George.

It was game time. I only had one chance to make a fantastic first impression, and it was imperative that George find me beautiful, charming and impossible to ignore immediately. If I made one wrong move, my chance could be lost and my entire life would be ruined.

Smoothing my hair, I slowly floated across the room. Butterflies were flying around in my stomach, and my legs felt like rubber. If I stopped walking, I knew I would abandon my task. Despite the wave of fear slowly rising through my body, I forced myself to keep moving.

George had a beer in one hand and a lit cigarette in the other. He was slouched carelessly on the armchair. His head was back, his eyes closed. He looked relaxed. And gorgeous. There was another chair directly across from him, and I slowly lowered myself onto it.

He didn’t say anything or open his eyes as I arranged myself carefully on the chair. He also didn’t move when I gently said his name. It took three tries, two sighs and one throat clearing for him to finally look at me. His hazel eyes were slightly cloudy and unfocussed, and I realized immediately that George Harrison was quite drunk.

He squinted at me, took a sip of his beer and a drag of his cigarette. “Who are you luv?” he said with a slight slur. His Liverpool accent was heavy and almost impossible to understand. “I don’t know you.”

“Hello George,” I replied promptly. I had been rehearsing exactly what I would say for the last three days, and I had the script completely memorized in my mind.

“I’ve wanted to meet you for such a long time,” I continued, careful that I didn’t sound overly needy or obsessed. “You’re my favourite Beatle, and I absolutely love your music. You’re great. You’re better than great! You’re fantastic! Really. I wish I could play the guitar.”

“ U huh. Thanks luv. ” George smiled politely at me and casually looked around the room. He took another sip of his beer and flicked ashes on the floor.

I smiled brightly – just as I had practiced in the mirror at home – and leaned forward, giving him a perfect view down the front of my dress. I also crossed my legs, but ensured I lifted my skirt slightly in the process, exposing my legs. George raised his eyebrow, but said nothing.

“So…” I began slowly. “Do you want to go somewhere and… talk?”

George laughed. “We’re talking now.”

“I know, I know.” I giggled, a high-pitched, practiced giggle. “But I mean… really talk. You know?”

“I’m good here luv. Thanks though.”

“Are you sure? We could… go somewhere…. Now.”

“I don’t think so. Not today.”

Silence. Oh crap. What should I say next? I hadn’t thought this far ahead, so I said the first thing that popped into my head.

“I love you.”

George looked at me strangely, and forced a smile. “Thank you. I love my fans.”

I sensed that I might be losing control of the conversation. Both my common sense and my female intuition were telling me to stop talking, but I simply couldn’t force my lips to stop moving. This was my chance. My one chance. I had to convince him to love me.

“I’m not just a fan. I really, really love you. I came here for you, George.”

“That’s great luv. I’m glad to meet you. Excuse me.” Without warning, George stood up and started to walk away. I jumped up frantically.

“Wait!” I shouted shrilly. George stopped, and turned to look at me. “Don’t leave! Let’s go somewhere, talk more, something… But you can’t just leave! I’ve been waiting for months to meet you.”

George sighed impatiently. “Well, we’ve met now. I’ll see you around.”

“Stop!” I screamed at the top of my lungs. “Stop!” A number of people in the room were looking at me, and I could see two security guards walking in my direction. I didn’t care.

“Stop, George.” I was pleading now. My dignity was gone. The security guards reached me, and one grabbed my arm. Gently, yet forcefully, they started to lead me towards the door. George was watching me, a look of disappointment on his face. I couldn’t understand it. Why didn’t he love me?

“Geoooorrrgggeeee……” I bellowed. We reached the door. It was opened, I was unceremoniously thrown out, and it was closed loudly behind me. I was left in the hallway, humiliated and alone.

I couldn’t stop the tears that began to form in my eyes and fall down my cheeks. A part of me half expected George to rush out of the green room and console me. He didn’t. Blindly, I started to run down the hallway. I needed to get away, and anywhere was better than where I was.

Pushing open a heavy, metal door, I found myself in the parking lot. I sat down on the pavement. My heart was broken. It had only taken a moment, but my life was over. There was no way I would ever recover.

Beatlemania: Part One

The following is the first half of a story I wrote for Advanced Creative Writing class...

“Sheryl, move your ass!” I screamed as I threw myself into the back of the waiting taxi. “If we miss this I’ll kill you!”

With an unattractive scowl on her face and an equally unattractive sloth-like saunter, Sheryl slowly made progress towards the waiting vehicle. She has just finished telling me for the millionth time how stupid she thought my mission was. I had taken offence to her criticism – especially when she called me a ‘British Invasion-addicted harlot’ – and beyond my angry prodding for her to walk faster, we were currently not speaking.

Sheryl lowered herself into the taxi and smiled demurely at the driver. He started the engine and took off down the narrow street. It was a 45-minute drive to downtown Toronto, and I was becoming increasingly agitated with every passing moment. For the past three months – ever since I purchased two tickets to the concert – I had thought of nothing but this day. The knowledge that I would see my future husband in-person and in my hometown was almost more than I could bear. If I missed the most important opportunity of my life, I probably would kill Sheryl.

Her high-pitched voice broke into my thoughts. Despite her protests earlier, she still wanted to accompany me and participate in my quest.

“Ok, so explain to me again why this is such a big deal,” Sheryl said. “I mean, they’re just musicians, right? And they aren’t even that good. And seriously, they’re from Europe. Like, don’t people listen to them in Europe? Why do they have to come all the way here?”

I groaned. Apparently we were speaking again. “Don’t be an idiot, Sheryl. They are the biggest band of all time, and they are here to get even more famous. God, don’t you listen to anything?”

“Fine,” she replied sourly. “So what’s your plan when we get there?”

I was silent for a moment as I pondered her question. I had been running through the step-by-step actions I would take once I arrived at the arena where the concert was being held, but I had yet to voice my plan aloud. Reaching a conclusion, I turned in my seat.

“Our number one priority is to get backstage after the concert,” I explained to Sheryl. “Then, I will find him and you will disappear.”

Sheryl rolled her eyes. “Fine, I can do that.”

“Good. This is very, very important Sheryl. My entire life is riding on this. Please don’t ruin this chance for me.”

“I won’t,” Sheryl said sharply. “I just don’t get it. Why is seducing a musician so important to you?”

“Because!” I replied quickly. “Once he sleeps with me he’ll fall in love with me. And then we’ll get married and I’ll move to Liverpool and we’ll live happily ever after.”

The taxi slowed down and I looked out the window to see the imposing structure of the Maple Leaf Gardens Arena. I opened the door and jumped onto the sidewalk, smoothing my favourite green dress. Sheryl said it was the only outfit that made my dark brown hair look ‘marginally attractive,’ and for some reason, I always listened to her opinion. She hopped out of the taxi after me and winked at the driver. Together, we walked up the stairs to the main entrance, handed our tickets to a sullen teenage boy, and entered the arena.

“Alright genius, so what’s your plan?” Sheryl asked as we watched thousands of teenage girls move around excitedly in all directions. The interior of the arena was literally a sea of patterned dresses, teased hair and too much makeup. I was beginning to feel claustrophobic. I was also starting to second-guess the effectiveness of my seduction strategy. Every girl in the place would sleep with any one of the band members if the opportunity arose. I was one in a sea of 10,000 eager groupies.

“I don’t know what to do…” I stammered uncertainly. “Should we find our seats?”

“Don’t you want to go backstage?”

“Of course. But he’ll be mad at me if he found out I didn’t watch him play.”

We found our seats – in one of the furthest sections from the stage – and settled in to watch the concert. Suddenly, the announcer shouted, “Introducing The Beatles” over the loudspeaker. I felt my heartbeat begin to quicken. Ringo emerged from backstage first, and took his place behind the drums. John and Paul came onstage together, and the crowd erupted with cheers. Most girls were either Team Paul or Team John, which was just fine with me.

Finally, when everyone else was situated, George appeared. He wore his guitar over his shoulder and had his usual thoughtful-yet-mischievous look on his face. I reminded myself to breathe. There he was. My future husband and the future father of my children. Right in front of me. We were even breathing the same air.

Sheryl nudged me in the ribs with her elbow. “There he is,” she whispered loudly. “Why don’t you go get him now?”

“Shhhhhh!” I hissed back. “They’re about to start.”

I barely paid attention to the concert. As girls screamed, cried and belted out the lyrics to each song at the top of their lungs, I simply stared at him. I became so lost in my own little George Harrison trance that I didn’t even notice the concert was over until Sheryl started frantically shaking my arm.

“Gail, we’ve got to go now!” she shouted above the mass of screaming fans begging for an encore. “It’s almost over and you’ve got to get backstage.”

I nodded my head violently and we quickly made our way across the aisle and down the stairs. When we reached the main level, we took off running.

Hours earlier, as we struggled through the crowd to find our seats, I had located the entrance to the backstage area. It was through a nondescript fence in a corner of the stadium. I only found it because about a hundred girls clung to the chain link like flies. As Sheryl and I approached, I noticed that a very large, refrigerator-shaped man stood guard inside the fence at the gate. I could see a number of girls milling around inside, and they all had a backstage passes around their necks.

“Sheryl,” I said quietly. “We have to get that man to let us in.” I pointed at refrigerator man and Sheryl looked at who I was motioning at. At first, a look of confusion registered on her face. Then, she started to smile and walked purposefully towards the gate. I was left with no choice but to follow.

“Burt!” Sheryl hollered above the sea of screaming fans. “Burt! It’s Sheryl.”

Refrigerator man (whose name is apparently Burt) scanned the crowd. His eyes fell on Sheryl and he too smiled. Moving the gate to the side - while forcing back the sea of fans - he beckoned us both behind the gated wall. The two exchanged a few words, a hug, and a very friendly kiss. A backstage pass was slipped around both our necks, and just like that, we were in.

I grabbed Sheryl’s arm and pulled her aside. “Who the hell is Burt?” I whispered in her ear. Sheryl just smiled.

Fun in the photography studio

This is one of the things I'm going to miss when CreComm ends... A bunch of pretty ladies, a professional photography studio and a lot of high-definition cameras...

New launch photos

I wanted to include a few more photos from my book launch. My classmate - Cindy Titus - is an amazing photographer. She did such a good job that I have to show off her work!

Updated puppy photos

When my good friends Tyler and Kristen got Rocco last year, I started taking as many pictures of the puppy as possible. I wanted to document his growth, because we all knew he was going to be HUGE!

Below, I have included a few photos taken last year. I think he's grown...