Woe is us Winnipeg, woe is us.
Waking up to snow slash slush slash hail hitting my window this morning was not something that I would like to repeat again in the near future. As if waking up at seven isn't hard enough sans snow, but with the sound of precipitation in addition to the dismality of another day at work, it was quite the feat. As motivation would have it, when the time was upon me to open that door to frigid flakes hitting my face I was there, in my place, ready to run. Here I am now sitting at a table full of Dell's with a bunch of boys wearing backwards hats and black hoodies, some chatting, some job searching and then there is me, being the least productive of them all. Tis grand to be the one with a job. Although I have used my time wisely exactly once this morning; Career Cruising. I figured if the clients get to find out what career they should dream of (my apologies for the negativity, but the chances are slim that it will happen), so should I. To my dismay, the top three careers that supposedly suit my character were all in the military. Accurate, n'est pas? Well, when I am forty and facing a dis-satisfied life, at least I will know that it is my own fault for choosing the wrong profession... for I should have been on the ground in a muddy trench; apparently there would inlay my satisfaction - Thanks Career Cruising.
Well, the room is filling and my hope is that there will be something worth while for me to entertain myself with in the next ten minutes. In preparation for the anticipated task, it is time for me to depart.
Stay dry,
Yours Truly.
Thursday, April 24, 2008
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
Sub-cultured sans smiles
Looking around the room of students who Tuesday night's French class beheld, people from many different sub-cultures returned my gaze. There was the retired traveller learning French for his next destination; Paris, the young commerce graduate; bringing a fresh outlook and bilingual sector to the position he recently undertook in a large company, the university guru; middle aged and still thriving on academic excellence while tip toeing into languages to stamp some more letters behind her name, etc. etc. etc. Every person from separate realms; each taking French for some reason within that world, none as common ground. As I sat in my chair thinking about the individuals beside and across from me, I became unusually intrigued with each of their lives. It's a shame, but the truth is that it is rare that I find myself in a group of people that lead a life completely unsynchronized with my own. I am enjoying it and despite the fact that the mid-class break chats are far more than slightly ackward, I find myself savoring each Tuesday night. Not that I particularly enjoy meeting new people because honestly I don't, yet strangely the anxiety of meeting people has been largely reduced, I would assume as a result of the lack of pretenciousness within the group. There is no need to impress and certainly nothing to prove. I can only dream of that being the case on site of other first hello's.
On a completely un-related note, summer is almost here and my cravings for bare legs are getting worse everyday. I subside them by looking down and realizing that these legs should be quivering in fear of being revealed to the world. Ah well, they will just have to stand strong against the judgemental eye from the first to the last day of summer. Hopefully by the last day they will have gained some pigment.
I can't seem to shake my meloncholly mood this week, fearfully I'll admit it is seemingly irreversible. Hopefully I'll admit I'm banking on the possibility that my good spirits will have bloomed by Saturday, if they are missing, beer will have to guide my smile and we don't want that now, do we? No, we actually really don't.
A la prochaine,
Boss (dubbed by the paper man)
On a completely un-related note, summer is almost here and my cravings for bare legs are getting worse everyday. I subside them by looking down and realizing that these legs should be quivering in fear of being revealed to the world. Ah well, they will just have to stand strong against the judgemental eye from the first to the last day of summer. Hopefully by the last day they will have gained some pigment.
I can't seem to shake my meloncholly mood this week, fearfully I'll admit it is seemingly irreversible. Hopefully I'll admit I'm banking on the possibility that my good spirits will have bloomed by Saturday, if they are missing, beer will have to guide my smile and we don't want that now, do we? No, we actually really don't.
A la prochaine,
Boss (dubbed by the paper man)
Thursday, April 10, 2008
New Tactics
Walking to and from Safeway on a close to daily basis, I have come across, as I'm sure many have, the regular street workers in my area. There is one man in particular, whose social skills are far above par, that I am continually baffled by. With a greeting such as "Good evening Ma'am" and as I most often decline his polite request for spare change, he concludes his rehearsed dialogue with "Have a wonderful evening ma'am". Because of the employment that I have, I can not say that I understand why this civilized gentleman has not yet found employment. Unfortunately, it as recently come to my apparently naive attention that this IS his employment of choice. Apparently this man can not find it in himself to test the waters of over the table income. 'Tis surely a shame.
Yesterday with newly purchased yogurt and apples in my cloth grocery bag on my shoulder, this bearded man and I crossed paths while both of us were on route to our regular stations; me to my home, him to his guard in front of Movie Village. Typically he, being five feet from me, started his speech;
"Spare a little change Ma'am?"
"No, sorry."
"No problem, have a wonderful evening Ma'am"
"Thanks, you too"
I had only stopped walking for a brief moment for this short conversation, so after it was over I continued walking and assumed he had resumed speed aswell. I had only taken one step onward before I was stopped by his voice once again;
"Oh and ma'am?"
I turned my head back towards him again,
"You are extremely gorgeous"
"Thanks," I turned back towards my home assuming he would also continue,
"I really mean it ma'am"
I didn't turn towards him for that last remark. Is this some sort of new tactic for him? I see him at least once, often twice a day and I suppose it has been quite some time since I have given him any spare change. He assumably thought that a compliment of sorts would do the trick to turn my decline into nickels. His loss, I guess, it defintely did not score him even pennies from this lady.
Oh the ways of the world, I will continue to learn of them linearly and, in due time, will over come my naivety.
Sincerely,
V.
Yesterday with newly purchased yogurt and apples in my cloth grocery bag on my shoulder, this bearded man and I crossed paths while both of us were on route to our regular stations; me to my home, him to his guard in front of Movie Village. Typically he, being five feet from me, started his speech;
"Spare a little change Ma'am?"
"No, sorry."
"No problem, have a wonderful evening Ma'am"
"Thanks, you too"
I had only stopped walking for a brief moment for this short conversation, so after it was over I continued walking and assumed he had resumed speed aswell. I had only taken one step onward before I was stopped by his voice once again;
"Oh and ma'am?"
I turned my head back towards him again,
"You are extremely gorgeous"
"Thanks," I turned back towards my home assuming he would also continue,
"I really mean it ma'am"
I didn't turn towards him for that last remark. Is this some sort of new tactic for him? I see him at least once, often twice a day and I suppose it has been quite some time since I have given him any spare change. He assumably thought that a compliment of sorts would do the trick to turn my decline into nickels. His loss, I guess, it defintely did not score him even pennies from this lady.
Oh the ways of the world, I will continue to learn of them linearly and, in due time, will over come my naivety.
Sincerely,
V.
Thursday, April 3, 2008
"People who work at McDonalds have small brains" - Alexa
Easter weekend beheld amusement and disappointment. In order for my disappointment to be acknowledged, I let the town of Moosomin know how I felt about them. Embarassingly enough, Gordon Sinclair found it interesting. I suppose it is more so my embarassement, considering I am the one that informed him of it - upon the encouragment of others I must say. Perhaps I will become famous to those who indulge themselves on negativity and rants about something or nothing found in his column daily. Thankfully he is not a writer from the less classy newspaper in Winnipeg; the Sun. That would be more of an embarassement. Either way, it happened and, embarassement and potential fame aside, for your interests sake or not, you will find my ill-written and un-educated vocalized opinion below.
--
April 1, 2008
To the Town of Moosomin and World Spectator,
It is with much dismay that I am writing this letter regarding an event that was nothing short and far more than an annoyance. Let me describe the scenario to you in hopes that you too might feel the vexation that I did upon my encounter with the RCMP in Moosomin.
While driving home from an Easter weekend getaway to Saskatoon to visit family, my dad and I were cruising down the highway passing an abundance of cops; every 75 kilometres, or so it felt. We were not stopped by any, as we were abiding by the speed and other laws – or so we thought. While coming up in Moosomin, my dad, being the driver, slowed down to 50 as that is the speed limit is in the town. We were approaching about five RCMP cars in a driveway on the right and made comments about yet another speeding trap on the highway. Much to our surprise, we got pulled over and confused my dad rolled down his window to see what the problem was. It turns out that as his passenger I was wearing my seatbelt improperly. Instead of wearing the strap on my shoulder, I had it tucked under my armpit. As the RCMP officer told me my offense, I informed him that I was completely unaware that it was illegal. Regardless of my ignorance, the RCMP officer happily issued me a ticket for $165. It wasn't as though I was not wearing a seatbelt; it wasn't even as though the belt was behind by back, just tucked under my arm. While the one officer issued me the ticket, the other RCMP officers were all standing around, seemingly content to watch the entertainment.
There are a few things that irritate me about this situation. The first is the outrageous cost of the ticket. Considering the fact that it was an offence that I had no idea was illegal, a ticket should not have been issued, but rather a warning. RCMP are supposed to be there for, as citizens, our own protection. With a slogan of "Safe Homes, Safe Communities", I do not hesitate to say that I was far from causing the community of Moosomin any danger. Given the circumstance, (i.e. Driving a speed of a mere 50 kilometers an hour), I was not at risk of rib damage for myself which the RCMP officer described as the reason the seatbelt needed to be worn above the shoulder, nor was I putting anyone in the town or the highway at risk through my ignorance. My second concern is the fact that there were 5 RCMP cars parked in this little parking lot, as many of the officers stood around chatting and laughing as only a few of the officers were doing the pulling over, for ridiculous offences, I must say. I feel offended as a citizen who pays taxes to RCMP in my country that they are so busy chatting, and pulling over innocent unaware drivers of highway laws that go unadvertised, rather than doing something worthwhile, something that will actually make a difference in this country. After the officer finished writing my ticket, the whole crew packed up and left the site. Because of this, I am sure that they were trying to quickly fill their quota of tickets issued. This being said, it is quite obvious that they didn't care to keep the homes and community of Moosomin safe, they wanted to get out of there as fast as possible. Before leaving the side of my car, the officer said to me, "If you want to fight this ticket, you need to appear in Moosomin on June 3rd. Vanessa, if you fail to pay the ticket or appear in court, there will be a warrant for your arrest". Please, you are going to arrest me? You are going to throw me in a cell with serious offenders?
To you Moosomin, to a town that I used to enjoy driving through, stopping for gas in, purchasing snacks for my trips to and from Saskatoon, I will now take my business elsewhere. In regards to your revenue generating RCMP officers, I am thoroughly disappointed in your choice of priorities. As the passenger of a Manitoba driver passing through my neighboring province, have some courtesy. Stop focussing on catching unaware young citizens and educate them. As for me, I am now aware of the law, I did not need a ticket of $165 to learn that though. What I needed was an RCMP, one that was legitimately and truly concerned about my well-being, to inform me, so that I might stay safe and be aware of the danger.
Thank you very much.
Sincerely,
Vanessa Hiebert
--
April 1, 2008
To the Town of Moosomin and World Spectator,
It is with much dismay that I am writing this letter regarding an event that was nothing short and far more than an annoyance. Let me describe the scenario to you in hopes that you too might feel the vexation that I did upon my encounter with the RCMP in Moosomin.
While driving home from an Easter weekend getaway to Saskatoon to visit family, my dad and I were cruising down the highway passing an abundance of cops; every 75 kilometres, or so it felt. We were not stopped by any, as we were abiding by the speed and other laws – or so we thought. While coming up in Moosomin, my dad, being the driver, slowed down to 50 as that is the speed limit is in the town. We were approaching about five RCMP cars in a driveway on the right and made comments about yet another speeding trap on the highway. Much to our surprise, we got pulled over and confused my dad rolled down his window to see what the problem was. It turns out that as his passenger I was wearing my seatbelt improperly. Instead of wearing the strap on my shoulder, I had it tucked under my armpit. As the RCMP officer told me my offense, I informed him that I was completely unaware that it was illegal. Regardless of my ignorance, the RCMP officer happily issued me a ticket for $165. It wasn't as though I was not wearing a seatbelt; it wasn't even as though the belt was behind by back, just tucked under my arm. While the one officer issued me the ticket, the other RCMP officers were all standing around, seemingly content to watch the entertainment.
There are a few things that irritate me about this situation. The first is the outrageous cost of the ticket. Considering the fact that it was an offence that I had no idea was illegal, a ticket should not have been issued, but rather a warning. RCMP are supposed to be there for, as citizens, our own protection. With a slogan of "Safe Homes, Safe Communities", I do not hesitate to say that I was far from causing the community of Moosomin any danger. Given the circumstance, (i.e. Driving a speed of a mere 50 kilometers an hour), I was not at risk of rib damage for myself which the RCMP officer described as the reason the seatbelt needed to be worn above the shoulder, nor was I putting anyone in the town or the highway at risk through my ignorance. My second concern is the fact that there were 5 RCMP cars parked in this little parking lot, as many of the officers stood around chatting and laughing as only a few of the officers were doing the pulling over, for ridiculous offences, I must say. I feel offended as a citizen who pays taxes to RCMP in my country that they are so busy chatting, and pulling over innocent unaware drivers of highway laws that go unadvertised, rather than doing something worthwhile, something that will actually make a difference in this country. After the officer finished writing my ticket, the whole crew packed up and left the site. Because of this, I am sure that they were trying to quickly fill their quota of tickets issued. This being said, it is quite obvious that they didn't care to keep the homes and community of Moosomin safe, they wanted to get out of there as fast as possible. Before leaving the side of my car, the officer said to me, "If you want to fight this ticket, you need to appear in Moosomin on June 3rd. Vanessa, if you fail to pay the ticket or appear in court, there will be a warrant for your arrest". Please, you are going to arrest me? You are going to throw me in a cell with serious offenders?
To you Moosomin, to a town that I used to enjoy driving through, stopping for gas in, purchasing snacks for my trips to and from Saskatoon, I will now take my business elsewhere. In regards to your revenue generating RCMP officers, I am thoroughly disappointed in your choice of priorities. As the passenger of a Manitoba driver passing through my neighboring province, have some courtesy. Stop focussing on catching unaware young citizens and educate them. As for me, I am now aware of the law, I did not need a ticket of $165 to learn that though. What I needed was an RCMP, one that was legitimately and truly concerned about my well-being, to inform me, so that I might stay safe and be aware of the danger.
Thank you very much.
Sincerely,
Vanessa Hiebert
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
The wonder years, et cetera.
While sipping tea amidst lamp lighting in the dark of an evening, my oldest sister and I sat reminiscing over our childhood; the wonder years. Chuckling to laughing to shrieking the stories unravelled and memories that we thought were long gone, surfaced. Ecstasy. The camping, the lemonade stands, and the babysitting; What times have been better than those?
Childhood innocense was ignorance as bliss. During those long hours of sandbox creations how could I have imagined what life as an adult would entale? Rent, loathsome employment, crucial decisions, and so on and so on.
Recently I have become more aware than ever of the faults that I have been cursed with, or rather, the once small flaws that I have allowed to evolve into my character. To name them would be embarassing as the list is far too long for ambition to overcome in near future. It seems as though, it is not quite as easy as it once was, to be a decent human being, in fact it is getting harder everyday. The realization that my character needs to be tended to, that I need to conciously decide to better myself in my everyday choices, actions, and words is overwhelming. How can it be that I haven't thought of this sooner? For now it seems too hard; too late to be beautiful.
Self-loathing slash pity aside, I enjoy the idea that there is still hope for me. It so happens that time is on my side; sitting on the meer age of 20, there is still days, nay, years - God willing - to enhance my current self, for my childhood morale to be seized, and evolve once more into the person that I so long to be.
Though I can't say I am un-satisfied with my current life, in fact it is turning out beautifully, yet, I can't help but sigh and utter those disgustingly familiar words ... Oh, to be a child again.
Signing off,
V.
Childhood innocense was ignorance as bliss. During those long hours of sandbox creations how could I have imagined what life as an adult would entale? Rent, loathsome employment, crucial decisions, and so on and so on.
Recently I have become more aware than ever of the faults that I have been cursed with, or rather, the once small flaws that I have allowed to evolve into my character. To name them would be embarassing as the list is far too long for ambition to overcome in near future. It seems as though, it is not quite as easy as it once was, to be a decent human being, in fact it is getting harder everyday. The realization that my character needs to be tended to, that I need to conciously decide to better myself in my everyday choices, actions, and words is overwhelming. How can it be that I haven't thought of this sooner? For now it seems too hard; too late to be beautiful.
Self-loathing slash pity aside, I enjoy the idea that there is still hope for me. It so happens that time is on my side; sitting on the meer age of 20, there is still days, nay, years - God willing - to enhance my current self, for my childhood morale to be seized, and evolve once more into the person that I so long to be.
Though I can't say I am un-satisfied with my current life, in fact it is turning out beautifully, yet, I can't help but sigh and utter those disgustingly familiar words ... Oh, to be a child again.
Signing off,
V.
Thursday, March 20, 2008
My imagination.
The last time that my niece was in town my hope was restored in imaginations. You always hear people talk about children having an ample amount of imagination in their often odd shaped heads, but I didn't really think about the reality of those words until my niece showed me the ways of her mind. My sister - her mom - myself and my niece were sitting in the kitchen at my parents house chatting and we gave Cadence a wooden spoon to play with. We're nice, I know. Much to my surprise, she starts throwing it over her shoulder and saying "We're fishing! Look at all the fishies in the water!! I caught one! I caught a fishy! Look there's a pink one, a blue one, and a green one!" Just with that wooden spoon. What the hell right!? I couldn't even pretend to play fishing with her because my imagination is just that far gone. I couldn't see those damn fish. Suffice it to say, after watching my niece's display of... resourcefulness, I was pretty bummed of my lack there of.
Yesterday I regained my imagination... Big-time. Amidst an odd health situation, my childhood mind flew back to me in full force. My brain created pains in my stomach that I knew were non-existent; I created worst-case diagnosing scenarios. It was mahem in my mind to say the least. Final wishes, funeral plans, and last words were flying around up there and all I had to go off of was pale poo. The internet is a bitch. We'll see what the doctor has to say today, he will probably confirm the fact that my imagination is at an all-time high and that I'm missing B12 in my diet or somthing completely curable of the like. After my new diet is discussed, my imagination will go into recess until the next scare comes along.
We'll see though, either I'm dying in which case I'm flying to Europe tomorrow, or I have an imagination, in which case I'll be fishing at work today - avec mon stylo. I'd prefer the latter.
Yours Truly,
Vanasty.
Yesterday I regained my imagination... Big-time. Amidst an odd health situation, my childhood mind flew back to me in full force. My brain created pains in my stomach that I knew were non-existent; I created worst-case diagnosing scenarios. It was mahem in my mind to say the least. Final wishes, funeral plans, and last words were flying around up there and all I had to go off of was pale poo. The internet is a bitch. We'll see what the doctor has to say today, he will probably confirm the fact that my imagination is at an all-time high and that I'm missing B12 in my diet or somthing completely curable of the like. After my new diet is discussed, my imagination will go into recess until the next scare comes along.
We'll see though, either I'm dying in which case I'm flying to Europe tomorrow, or I have an imagination, in which case I'll be fishing at work today - avec mon stylo. I'd prefer the latter.
Yours Truly,
Vanasty.
Thursday, March 13, 2008
Inspiration
Today I feel inspired to write a blog, which I have not done for quite some time now. For the last couple of months I have felt dry... As though I couldn't squeeze a drip of recent ponders from my brain to the black clavier where my fingers have rested; Waiting. Nothing. Today is nothing out of the ordinary, I experienced the silence of rested fingers just a minute ago but felt encouraged when I realized that no one will read this. I can write whatever I feel, even though I feel nothing yet am oddly motivated to write; but I have assurance that there will be no one there to critique my empty words. Hallelujah.
My life consists of... Work. On a day to day basis I am fighting the urge to call in sick. The push that motivates me to get out of bed is knowing that if I do call in sick, my poor mis-lead mother will be worried about what illness is keeping me from my duty of finding the poor youth of Winnipeg employment and will most likely take the trek to River Avenue at lunch hour to bring me food and sympathy. Oh the disappointment she would receive upon entering; to find me painting my nails or playing nintendo. The joys of working with Mom. It is now that she can stop repeating the words I despise to hear from her: "Be a woman of integrity". It is now that integrity is upon me; forcibly so. Unfortunately, yet fortunately, she is numb to that fact.
If only I could be satisfied with the slush soiling the back of my jeans. Summer seems far too distant, not to mention Fall: My goal, my prize. Daily I dream of textbooks, nervousness and re-kindeling my love affair avec le langue d'amour; Francais. As far away as Fall seems to be, saving money is my demon and my bank account is at an all-time low. With hopes of a maintaining a loan-free first year of university, I need to get on my A game. I will blame my worn out debit card on my living arrangement; Osborne Village. What else will I do but buy necklaces, bubble tea and boots? Nothing. I'll put my hope in summer being the solution; cycling the streets and walking the paths.
Here's to hoping... And to making it through the day.
*Cheers*
Love, Longlost V.
My life consists of... Work. On a day to day basis I am fighting the urge to call in sick. The push that motivates me to get out of bed is knowing that if I do call in sick, my poor mis-lead mother will be worried about what illness is keeping me from my duty of finding the poor youth of Winnipeg employment and will most likely take the trek to River Avenue at lunch hour to bring me food and sympathy. Oh the disappointment she would receive upon entering; to find me painting my nails or playing nintendo. The joys of working with Mom. It is now that she can stop repeating the words I despise to hear from her: "Be a woman of integrity". It is now that integrity is upon me; forcibly so. Unfortunately, yet fortunately, she is numb to that fact.
If only I could be satisfied with the slush soiling the back of my jeans. Summer seems far too distant, not to mention Fall: My goal, my prize. Daily I dream of textbooks, nervousness and re-kindeling my love affair avec le langue d'amour; Francais. As far away as Fall seems to be, saving money is my demon and my bank account is at an all-time low. With hopes of a maintaining a loan-free first year of university, I need to get on my A game. I will blame my worn out debit card on my living arrangement; Osborne Village. What else will I do but buy necklaces, bubble tea and boots? Nothing. I'll put my hope in summer being the solution; cycling the streets and walking the paths.
Here's to hoping... And to making it through the day.
*Cheers*
Love, Longlost V.
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