As my official title has changed from bright eyed student to unemployed and desperately looking, I can tell you that nothing tastes as good as a free meal. But since I'm not getting too many of those, breakfast for $3.99 comes pretty close.
Today I ventured downtown to a local eatery to have breakfast with my girlfriend. Since she will be traveling to Paris in a few days this will be one of her last chances to eat greasy, fried food before the taste of fresh bread, cheese and street crepes takes over her diet. In an attempt to wrestle with my jealousy, I joined her and was glad I did.
Yes there was plenty of butter, too much bacon (I can't believe I'm writing that) and fried potatoes for miles, but it was delicious. Besides, breakfast is an important meal that gets your metabolism working and your brain firing on all cylinders.
The price was also a draw. I mean how can you go wrong with a $4 meal from a restaurant that doesn't have smiles on the menu or spaceship themed bathrooms? You can't, it's simple logic.
But the price was really just a bonus. Having breakfast with my girlfriend was the best part. Eating meals can sometimes be a lonely endeavor, especially when everyone seems to be at work or traveling to the far reaches of the world. But today I was able to spend some time with someone I love.
So I am grateful for $3.99 breakfasts. I am grateful for the boost it gives me and the delicious nature of home fries and toast. And I am grateful that I could sit down, have some amazing company and enjoy a side of morning sun with my eggs and bacon without it meaning a bounced rent cheque.
Monday, April 30, 2012
Friday, April 27, 2012
#70- My New Phone
Before I explain my new phone, I must first take a minute to eulogize my old phone.
It was a good phone. It was a simple phone. It lasted me three, long years and I enjoyed that it was small and had no ability to access the internet or download apps or even turn on properly sometimes. I mean don't be fooled, it was a reliable phone and was always trusty when I needed to text someone or call a source for an interview (as long as it was a shorter than twenty minutes because that's as long as the battery could last). And despite its duct taped backside and the fact that for the last three months I had to open it gingerly and with surgeon-like precision because the two pieces were hanging together by a thin, thread-like wire, it survived a lot and went through many an adventure snug inside my pocket.
But when I saw it tumble to the floor and break in two, I sunk to my knees, put my head in my hands and did a little mental fist pump because, finally, the last chapter on my old phone had been written.
So a week ago I went to buy a new phone and I discovered that these newfangled smart phones weren't all that evil after all. I tried to act the shrewd business man and seem uninterested in the sly selling points the salesperson was throwing at me, determined to get the best deal I could. I lasted all of two minutes until I folded like a kid in a toy store upon seeing that instead of hitting individual buttons on the screen to text I could simply swipe my fingers across the keyboard to spell words.
In all seriousness though, I walked out of the phone store with not only a new phone, but a reopened gateway to friends, family and the world. I could once again hear my girlfriend's voice and make plans with hometown friends I hadn't seen in weeks or months. I could call my grandmother while I was doing errands to tell her I was coming to visit. I was able to wish my brother good luck on his exams. I could receive the non-existent phone calls offering me a dream job. I was able to spell words like actinomycin and pentangle without even trying. I was connected and life was a little happier.
I know I don't need all these things to stay connected and have a meaningful relationship with people (Believe me, two and a half weeks without a phone will teach you that), but it gives me options and as far as I'm concerned options are never a bad thing when it means more interaction with the people you love.
So I am grateful for my new phone. I am grateful not just for the functions it provides, but the benefits that come with them. I am grateful not only because it adds convenience to my life, but opportunity: the opportunity to talk to people I care about, make connections and achieve goals. And I plan to see what sort of crazy journeys these new opportunities will take me on, with new phone by my side of course.
It was a good phone. It was a simple phone. It lasted me three, long years and I enjoyed that it was small and had no ability to access the internet or download apps or even turn on properly sometimes. I mean don't be fooled, it was a reliable phone and was always trusty when I needed to text someone or call a source for an interview (as long as it was a shorter than twenty minutes because that's as long as the battery could last). And despite its duct taped backside and the fact that for the last three months I had to open it gingerly and with surgeon-like precision because the two pieces were hanging together by a thin, thread-like wire, it survived a lot and went through many an adventure snug inside my pocket.
But when I saw it tumble to the floor and break in two, I sunk to my knees, put my head in my hands and did a little mental fist pump because, finally, the last chapter on my old phone had been written.
So a week ago I went to buy a new phone and I discovered that these newfangled smart phones weren't all that evil after all. I tried to act the shrewd business man and seem uninterested in the sly selling points the salesperson was throwing at me, determined to get the best deal I could. I lasted all of two minutes until I folded like a kid in a toy store upon seeing that instead of hitting individual buttons on the screen to text I could simply swipe my fingers across the keyboard to spell words.
In all seriousness though, I walked out of the phone store with not only a new phone, but a reopened gateway to friends, family and the world. I could once again hear my girlfriend's voice and make plans with hometown friends I hadn't seen in weeks or months. I could call my grandmother while I was doing errands to tell her I was coming to visit. I was able to wish my brother good luck on his exams. I could receive the non-existent phone calls offering me a dream job. I was able to spell words like actinomycin and pentangle without even trying. I was connected and life was a little happier.
I know I don't need all these things to stay connected and have a meaningful relationship with people (Believe me, two and a half weeks without a phone will teach you that), but it gives me options and as far as I'm concerned options are never a bad thing when it means more interaction with the people you love.
So I am grateful for my new phone. I am grateful not just for the functions it provides, but the benefits that come with them. I am grateful not only because it adds convenience to my life, but opportunity: the opportunity to talk to people I care about, make connections and achieve goals. And I plan to see what sort of crazy journeys these new opportunities will take me on, with new phone by my side of course.
Thursday, April 26, 2012
#69- J School
I guess if I'm talking about J-school I should probably start off with a nice, solid lede, one that's punchy, but concise, informative, but engaging, one that's... oh, I guess I already dropped the ball on that one. Oh well.
But seriously, I just finished my undergraduate career eight days ago and J-school is already transforming from the thing I cursed every morning, noon and night while secretly loving it to a word dripping with nostalgia and covered in memories.
As I write this I look around my room at artifacts of my J-school career and it feels like I should be a character in a movie; the old man who wonders into his attic trying to find his cane only to suffer flashbacks of his life when he sees old pictures and such. Heartwarming? Sure. Corny? Definitely.
But I can't help it. I can see the pub crawl shirt in my closet out of the corner of my eye, the very same one that has the names of some of the greatest people I have ever had the honor of calling friends on it (although in barely legible scrawl that can obviously only be attributed to the poor lighting in the pubs).
And there in front of me on my desk is my recorder and microphone, the very same ones that I swore at when they wouldn't work properly and I lost half an interview about the pie industry in Ottawa. But also the same ones that hung by my side during the toughest production days that left me utterly exhausted, but indescribably exhilarated.
And what's that on my desk, an assignment from my political reporting class? Plenty of red ink on it, but a decent mark and, even more importantly, encouraging words from my professor (although even less readable to my eyes than the pub crawl autographs). I can't help but smile and remember the lessons I learned from all my teachers and not just about journalism, but about life too.
Yep, as I look around my room I know two things for sure: I really need to spend a day cleaning it up and I'm really going to miss J-school with all its crazy deadlines, early morning classes, mind numbing post-morts, awesome friends, history-witnessing moments and quiet nights doing what I love most, writing. And I would do it all again, the very same, if I had to.
So I'm grateful for J-school. I'm grateful mostly for the people I have met in it, from my girlfriend, to friends who have shaped my last four years, professors who have molded my brain and sources who have challenged, changed and reaffirmed my perspective on the world. I'm grateful and I'll never forget it, but it's time to move on. Peace out J-school.
-30-
But seriously, I just finished my undergraduate career eight days ago and J-school is already transforming from the thing I cursed every morning, noon and night while secretly loving it to a word dripping with nostalgia and covered in memories.
As I write this I look around my room at artifacts of my J-school career and it feels like I should be a character in a movie; the old man who wonders into his attic trying to find his cane only to suffer flashbacks of his life when he sees old pictures and such. Heartwarming? Sure. Corny? Definitely.
But I can't help it. I can see the pub crawl shirt in my closet out of the corner of my eye, the very same one that has the names of some of the greatest people I have ever had the honor of calling friends on it (although in barely legible scrawl that can obviously only be attributed to the poor lighting in the pubs).
And there in front of me on my desk is my recorder and microphone, the very same ones that I swore at when they wouldn't work properly and I lost half an interview about the pie industry in Ottawa. But also the same ones that hung by my side during the toughest production days that left me utterly exhausted, but indescribably exhilarated.
And what's that on my desk, an assignment from my political reporting class? Plenty of red ink on it, but a decent mark and, even more importantly, encouraging words from my professor (although even less readable to my eyes than the pub crawl autographs). I can't help but smile and remember the lessons I learned from all my teachers and not just about journalism, but about life too.
Yep, as I look around my room I know two things for sure: I really need to spend a day cleaning it up and I'm really going to miss J-school with all its crazy deadlines, early morning classes, mind numbing post-morts, awesome friends, history-witnessing moments and quiet nights doing what I love most, writing. And I would do it all again, the very same, if I had to.
So I'm grateful for J-school. I'm grateful mostly for the people I have met in it, from my girlfriend, to friends who have shaped my last four years, professors who have molded my brain and sources who have challenged, changed and reaffirmed my perspective on the world. I'm grateful and I'll never forget it, but it's time to move on. Peace out J-school.
-30-
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