#81- Reunions

I was waiting anxiously at the bus terminal yesterday for my girlfriend to arrive from Paris. I paced up and down the gates, looking out the window every couple seconds in hope of catching a glimpse of an incoming bus. 

And then finally I saw one pulling in and ran to the gate. Through the glass doors and the window of the bus I could see a girl with short, blonde hair that could only mean it was my girlfriend. I pushed through the crowd, almost in slow motion. My only thought was to get to her, to hug her for the first time in two weeks.

I got to the front, my smile growing with every step. As she came out the door she looked up and... it wasn't her. No, it was some other girl and I was standing there, a dopey smile still on my face because my face muscles still hadn't registered what my brain had; this wasn't the bus from Montreal that my girlfriend was on.

Nope, life isn't a Nicholas Sparks book, but the reunion between my girlfriend and I did come, about 20 minutes later, and it didn't matter that there was no corny soundtrack or slow motion run towards each other through the rain or gently swaying tulips in an open meadow. 

What really mattered is that we were together again and that dopey smile was back on my face as we hugged and talked about her trip and laughed while we ate greasy burgers together as a welcome back to North American cuisine. 

What mattered was not how it happened, but that it happened.

I'm sure everyone has had a reunion like that. Maybe not with so much hugging or the smell of diesel fumes spinning around, but one where you felt like the world was a picture hanging slightly off centre and had been straightened up again with the reunion. 

It's always great to see your family again, or friends you haven't talked to in a while or a mentor that shaped your life's path and it's because when you're with those people again everything makes a little more sense, everything seems a little safer and you feel more confident. It's because you have the same memories, a shared history together, through good and bad, which makes you smile or laugh or even just makes you stronger on the inside. It's because being with those people makes you a better person and they feel the same way.

So I am grateful for reunions. I am grateful that I was reunited with my girlfriend yesterday. I am grateful for all those time in a year when I see those I love again after being away and the way my face lights up when we have a reunion. I am grateful that reunions bring people together, even after years of being apart sometimes. And I am grateful that they aren't always fairytale perfect, because that means each one is special in a way, each one is something to reminisce about at the next reunion.     

#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.   

#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-

#67- Chai

Forget the DeLorean; my nose is the only time machine I need.

My shnozz can take me back to any time or any place. All I need is the smell of something that opens the gate on a memory and the sights, sounds and feel of the some of the best, worst and ordinary times of my life play on the screen in my head.

The smell can be anything, from a whiff of cardboard that makes me think of my summer at the box factory or the harmonious odors of gasoline, tobacco and popcorn that fling me back to my childhood at the Canadian National Exhibition.

Today it was the smell of Kenyan chai.

Chai is the Kiswahili word for tea and when I smelled it wafting through the event I was photographing, my trip to the wonderful East African country of Kenya played itself out like I was there again.

Chai was the morning wakeup call when I was in Kenya. It was there every morning, freshly made from scratch by the Kenyan staff at the camp. The warmth it gave, the energy it instilled, the simple joy it brought was amazing.

Even before those things, came the smell. It was mesmerizing, comforting, even inspiring in a way. Chai was my alarm clock in Kenya (along with the bird that loudly chirped outside my tent every morning) and it signaled a new day in the country I had fallen in love with at first sight. I came to associate the amazing memories I had with chai. The friendships made and strengthened, the lessons learned, the showers missed, the awesome people met. These all came during or after a nice cup of chai.

So I am grateful for chai. I am grateful for taste that leaves my taste buds in awe. I am grateful for its warmth and its comfort and its enchanting smell. I am grateful for the people who grow the ingredients and the people who make the tea. And most of all I am grateful for the way chai can take me back and help me relive some of the best times of my life with some of the greatest people I've ever met and look forward to the day when I can do it all over again.

#49- Malls

Malls have been important places for me throughout my life.

When I was a kid, my family and I would meet up with my cousins, aunts, uncles and grandparents every Friday at Sherway Gardens. We would take over an entire portion of the food court and sit and eat and talk for hours until my brothers and I got bored and ran into the movie store to watch the film that was always playing in there.

When I got a bit older and wanted to go out with my friends on Friday nights we would sometimes go to the mall. Where else can you go when you have no money, but you want to hang out somewhere away from your parents? Answer: the mall. And so this is where we would hang out sometimes.

And now as I sit here unemployed and out of school for the summer, the mall has become a prime place for job hunting. Each store is like a fresh opportunity for me, a new hope that the person behind the cash will say they are hiring. The mall gives me a chance to show my potential employees a little bit of who I am, that personal touch that doesn't come with an online application, but is so important to any job.

So I am grateful for malls. I am grateful for all the times I have spent there with friends and family, for having so many different stores and cuisines from around the world under one roof and for having a string of stores that turn into strings of hope when I am looking for a job.  

#43- Easter

Easter has always made me feel like I can run a thousand miles. 

In years past I've attributed this feeling to the disgust ing amounts o f chocolate I ate after carefully out maneuvering my siblings in the annual Easter egg hunt.

I haven't hunted for Easter eggs in years, but that amazing feeling still exists and I don't find myself looking far to figure out why.

First of all, this is a day I spend with my loved ones every year. It's a time when I come together with my family or friends to enjoy each their company.

Easter always comes at a time when the world is being reborn. The snow has melted, the grass is becoming green, the trees are starting to sprout leaves and rivers and creeks are beginning to rush forward with new life. Easter has allowed me to stop, look around and appreciate these things and feel invigorated because of them.

Most importantly, Easter is the day that Jesus conquered death. To me, there is nothing more awesome and life asserting than that.

So I am grateful for Easter. I am grateful for what it means to me and the time I spend with my family, friends and loved ones. I am grateful that it is a time when spring shows its true self. The Easter egg hunts may be finished for me, but I always find so many things on Easter to make me smile.  

#38- Paint

I spent all day yesterday being very productive, but instead of studying for my upcoming exam I was helping to paint my girlfriend's new apartment with her and another friend.

The three of us painted all day and at the end, we rewarded ourselves by admiring our work, drinking a glass of wine and going out for a nice dinner.

The best part of the day was painting because I got to spend time with my friends and do something productive at the same time. It was the paint that brought us together and away from TV, the internet and all the other distractions that severe us from our friends and loved ones sometimes. The same thing has happened every time I have ever painted a room because I have worked together with people to complete a goal and have become closer with who ever I was painting with because of this shared experience. 

The paint helped me see where my priorities lie once again, but the other great thing was the sense of accomplishment I had at the end. The rooms had more character, they had a story and they looked really good too, which was something I could be proud of.

So I am grateful for paint and how it can be used to bring people together to achieve something. I am grateful for the people who make the paint and mix it. And I am grateful that paint can be used to make a masterpiece that moves you, whether it's a work of art from Picasso or a room in a house.

#20- Crosswords

I am on the verge of becoming a hoarder.

As I look around my room I can see five or six Metro crosswords strewn around and I know that there are five or six more in my school bag.

These crosswords keep me company on the bus or between classes or when I'm eating. They help me to excercise my brain and think outside of the box. I usually can't figure them out completely, and I never seem to be able to let them go.

Instead of throwing them in the recycling I shove them in my bag. It sort of reminds me of all the workouts my brain has gone through and all the times crosswords have saved me from staring into the abyss in absolute boredom.

Plus, I have some good memories of filling in crosswords with my friends and sometimes they remind me of those fun times and the teamwork that went into solving the puzzle.

So I am grateful for crosswords and the people who take the time to draw them up and the people who put them in the Metro so I can test myself every day and keep from going crazy on long bus rides. I am grateful for all the fun times I have had doing crosswords with friends and the simple feeling of victory when we work together. I may be slowly morphing into a pack rat, but I think if people ever point out all the half finished crosswords in my room, I'l tell them all I can see is memories.