Control

I learned something big about myself in Mexico.

And I'm sure it will come as no big surprise to you... or to my parents... but one of my greatest fears and challenges is not being in control. Of my life. Of the current situation... even of others.

You may remember I went on a bit of an adventure tour. One that took me zip lining, donkey riding and rappelling down waterfalls. It was great. And it challenged me like no other exercise I've ever done. Not due to a fear of heights, or a fear of falling, which I've always said I had. But for the first time in my life, I really had to put my life in someone else's hands.

The three hardest activities for me to do that day were: donkey riding, a short and fast zipline and rappelling down the face of a waterfall. The moment I swung my leg over that burro, I started to panic. My hands got sweaty, my pulse rapid. I understood what I had to do, how to get the brute of an animal to obey me... but I really wasn't in control. If he wanted to, he could barrel off in any direction. One wrong step, and we could careen down the mountain side, ass over teakettle (ha ha). It was all I could do not to jump off and walk my way. So I took a couple deep calming breaths. And I got through it.

But the worst, the absolute worst, was when we were rappelling down that damn waterfall. I have never, ever in my life rappelled anything. And we got – literally – a crash course minutes before going down for the first time. Of course they were trained. Of course they knew what they were doing, but in my silly little brain, it was the most terrifying thing ever. The rock face was slippery, and my sneakers were wet too, and I couldn't get hold. The only thing keeping me from sliding down at breakneck speed was my piddly right hand, that was supposed to gradually inch me down the steep vertical drop... and a guy at the bottom of the descent, holding the other end of the rope. As I slid, he coaxed, and reassured that he had some sort of mechanism that would keep me from dropping too far too fast.

It was terrifying. But it took me out of my comfort zone, which is what I wanted to do. And it taught me something about myself. That the Matrix "control freak" t-shirt I won back when I was playing high school softball was pretty accurate. Maybe a bit too much so.

So that's my biggest, most insurmountable fear. Lack of control. Or at least, feeling out of control. And Clare's comment on my last post was spot on. Not knowing and having no control over what is happening in my professional life is terrifying.

But I guess the only choice I have is to do the same thing as I did rappelling that waterfall ... or teetering on a foot-wide ledge in the Sierra Madre. It seems the only way I'm going to get through it is to take a couple deep breaths, and trust that person on the other end of the rope.

And hope to god they know what they're doing. Wish me luck.

Age of Confusion

I've been finding it increasingly difficult to focus as of late.

Probably because my efforts to be zen about how various economic stability issues right now are being thwarted at every pass.

When the first "getting through tough times" letter came around months ago, I vowed I wouldn't be one of those people who freak out about what COULD happen. I'd focus instead at the task at hand, and take everything in stride.

What else could I do, really.

But then ... well I was thrown off guard yesterday. And I blame Megan. While I was pleased to hear her chipper little voice on the other end of the phone line... I was NOT excited to hear the reason for her call.

A friend had heard the hosts in Victoria, BC joking about dusting off their resumes, because job cuts were on the way.

And, the Winnipeg Sun ran this story

My favourite part:

In a wide-ranging interview with Sun Media, Heritage Minister James Moore also said CBC layoffs were nearly certain and expected 600 to 1,200 people across the country would lose their jobs.

*Gulp.

Now since then, there's been even more coverage on this. No confirmation from the MotherCorp. But a somewhat ominous statement that:

No further details were available about the size of the cutbacks, although the public broadcaster said it would make an announcement to staff by the end of the month.

End of the month.

END OF THE MONTH???

What does that even MEAN? Does that mean decisions will be MADE by then? Does that mean that's when the cuts will be officially announced? Eeek!

I remember a month or so ago, we had a North-wide conference call about the status of things... and one person sounded right panic-ed about not really knowing what's going on, and how really, she said we had the right to know. These are our lives they are talking about.

At the time I remember shaking my head and thinking "dude, rellllaaaaxxx." But now I'm her. Now I'm thinking maybe it would have been a good idea to have dusted off that resume a couple months ago.

So now I can't concentrate. While I had more or less planned to move onwards and upwards in the next year or so... I expected to be able to do it on my own timing. Maybe I should have been less CBC-exclusive in my glances at the southern job market.

But then again. Maybe all this sweaty hands and pent-up-nervous energy is the cup of coffee I just downed. Who knows.

All I know, is that I seem to have entered the Age of Confusion. And it's not a short era.

Escape to the land of coral

Haha, as I wrote the title for this blog post, I was thinking "hmmm... wonder if Mr. Meandering Michael thinks I'm swiping his Queensland idea" ... but I'm not. I'm talking about a veeeryyy different type of coral.

I'm speaking of Coral Harbour, of course!

For those who aren't really all that familiar with Coral Harbour, it's located on Southampton Island, which juts out into the middle of Hudson Bay. I think it's probably the farthest "into" Hudson's Bay I'll ever get... being as most of the other little islands are uninhabited... or Sanikiluaq.

And being as it took me about a year and a half to get to Coral... and very little news-worthy takes place in Sani.... I think it's safe to say that I'll never be further out again.

So yes, I'm here for work. We happen to have a crazy shortage of reporters in Iqaluit right now (training, babies popping out, deaths in the family... broken legs... um... other natural disasters) and so we are in desperate need of stories... and the best place to send this reporter for tons of stories with quick turn-arounds is a meeting. And lo and behold, the Kivalliq Mayor's meeting is being held this week in Coral Harbour.

Yah, I know. Everyone hates meetings. But I heart them. They may be a bit tedious... but arm me with a mug full o' coffee... and a backup can of sugarfree Redbull (yes, disgusting, but necessary when you are still writing stories after 12 hours of work...) and I'm good to go. It's one-stop-shopping at its finest.

So I've been boarding with this sweet older couple in town. He's a justice of the peace, and she's cute as a button. They make me breakkie in the morning (eggs, toast, bacon/sausage... you sure you don't want cereal too??) and dinner at night... which is why I've been eating so much caribou meat! But that's okay with me, I actually really like caribou (as long as it's cooked). And it's also how I ended up eating igunak.

So for those of you who don't know, igunak is "raw walrus meat which has been wrapped and buried and left to decompose for at least a year." Sounds tasty eh? Well, as the story goes I actually didn't KNOW it was igunak until AFTER I tried it, they told me it was just regular muktah.

(And I don't actually really care for muktah, but I have a rule where if I'm offered something, especially as a guest, I try it.)

But then when the daughter was asking her mom if she wanted some, she called it igunak. And the man who offered it to me said it was probably a little "strong" for me haha. And then asked if I knew how they made it strong and I was right by answering that they wrapped and "aged it" or something along those lines.

So while I never really had any interest in trying igunak... I did, unintentionally, last night... and I will probably not partake again. I tried it. Then covertly hid what was left in the pouch of my hoodie, and disposed of it in the washroom. I don't think I fooled anyone though, haha.

But I have to say, I quite like it here. I don't know if I'd really want to live here... maybe a tad small (less than a thousand people here)... but the people are just so sweet... driving me to the hamlet office (even though it's only a five minute walk away...) loaning me a router (my Qiniq one of course managed to die as soon as I left Rankin. And that was the ONLY way I was going to be able to file items for news....man was I panic-ing about that one). Just really nice people being kind to a newcomer in town.

Much better that the "Coral Horror" stories I'd heard before I left.

Oh, and Jason from Igloolik... if you'd like to send me your mailing address, I'll send your prize... how did you know I was in Coral!??

Life's hard

I'm having a life-conflict right now.
I've been given the choice to leave my job and move back down south and for a variety of reasons turned it down.
Lack of a job on the other end is one reason, the boy is another, but overall while I have my moments (and right now is one of them) ... I am not ready to leave.

So I've worked my ass off this past week, "trying to make it work" and external forces are not making it easy on me.
And I may or may not have come to a breaking point.

Someone treated me unfairly today. This is not the first time, nor do I expect it to be the last. But it was just so uncalled for.
I asked a favour, and exhausted all other options before asking said favour, and I got shat on.
And it's just so unfair.
In a rare moment of assertion, I stood up for myself, but I really don't know if it did any good. I don't feel like it did.

All I can say, is thank goodness for Sully.
I walked in the door this afternoon, tears in my eyes and that little waggy tail made me smile so hard they dropped down my cheeks.
I probably don't treat him as good as I should. I should probably take him on more walks.
But he doesn't care. He just loves me unconditionally as long as I feed him and let him out to pee. Why can't everyone be like that?

I think I'm going to go give him a hug.

Unravelling...

I don't know why, but I have this insatiable urge to do something wild, crazy... even irrational.
I just want to pick up and go.

Where? When? How? I don't know. I don't care. I just want to go.

Part of me wants to go far away. To escape.
Another part wants to go somewhere very familiar. To be home.
And yet another part wants to go somewhere that ISN'T home, but ISN'T completely foreign. Some place comfortable.

So what's keeping me? Ummm. The fact that I have to bring home the bacon. Or is it bread? Bring home the bacon, put bread on the table.

Oh mixing metaphors. So much fun.

But really? This whole "working for a living" is pretty dumb. You work away so much of your life, and why? Besides paying non-fun things like bills... the point is so that you have the means to do the things you like... Right?

At least that's the way thing were when we were kids. Want something? Get a job. Earn some cash from that paper route, buy that doo-dad. Rinse. Repeat.

So if we carry that logic over... we work so we can do the things we DO want. But WHEN? When when when?

Maybe I just have it all wrong. We don't work so we can do what we WANT. We work so we can LIVE.

Maybe I'm just lazy.

Maybe I lack "drive"

Maybe I'm just in a slump.

And before you go blaming it on the weather... no. It's not the weather. It's got nothing to do with this town, it has nothing to do with the arctic. It's just... I feel restless. And listless. How can you feel both restless and listless at the same time? I have no idea. But it's happened.

Maybe it's a natural part of the Jackie-cycle...

"I want, I want, I want..."

Gawd I'm such a whiner. I'm annoying MYSELF. Why do you guys come here to read / listen to me whine?

So I'm feeling restless. I'm feeling listless. I'm feeling stir crazy. I'm feeling like I need to get out of town for a bit. And I have the money to do it too... but I just don't have the TIME. I am saving up my vacation days for a trip "out and over" (aka home) in May. And the way I have it worked out is perfect ... I think.

So I can't really leave. Not really. Even though I could use it, need it, not to mention want it etc. So I guess I'll just dream of it for now. But six months does seem like an awful long time to wait. And dream.





Okay. I'm done bitching. This might have to be nominated for "most incoherent post ever" but then, I did kind of warn you with the title.

Ow, Ow! My arm!

Remember? I'm mysterious!

Yeesh!

So I didn't talk about this widely for a couple reasons.

1. I didn't want to get MY hopes up, nor my friends and/or familys'.
2. I didn't tell my current employer, because it was kind of random, so I didn't want to write about it here, and have that be the way people found out.
3. I was really conflicted about the outcome, I didn't know what I wanted.
4. Maybe I WAS being a bit superstitious and didn't want to talk about it too much "or it wouldn't happen"
   

So here's the deal. A couple months ago... I was having a bad day or bad week or whatever, and was surfing the CBC Jobs board. I do this pretty regularly. Just to see what kind of options are out there, and where. I saw a posting for the type of job I was doing in Quebec City. In Halifax.

The kind of job I want to get back into doing. In the city I've often said I'd like to settle down in.

If there's anything I've learned over the past year and a bit is that I'm not a natural reporter. Sure, I can do it. Hell, I can do an okay job of it, but it's not where my heart lies. And I'm not cut out to spend the rest of my life in the North. That's just life. And I've accepted it.

So I filled out a couple forms, and pressed "Send."

Last week I heard from them. They wanted to interview me.

Not being one that's able to say NO... (especially to a potentially great opportunity), I had my interview on Wednesday. It went okay, but I didn't really feel qualified for the job. There was a significant technical aspect, and I am not a trained technician. Yet.

They interviewed four people, they were going to let me know today.

As the days wore on, I became more and more anxious and conflicted about the whole thing. Sure I have my moments, but I wasn't really ready to leave. I just bought a snowmobile. My sealift just arrived. Not to mention the fact that I have little interest in starting up another long-term LDR*.

So when the producer called this morning, I actually found myself repeating "say 'unfortunately,' SAY 'unfortunately'" in that little noggin of mine.

I got my wish...I think.

I didn't get the job**, and I'm actually un-naturally okay with it. I didn't really expect to get an interview, and now I have a little more experience in selection boards...

And like I said, I don't think I'm ready to leave. I've got a bunch of things coming up that I want to see through.

Spark has asked me to do another story for them, which should air mid-December.

I'm gearing up for my first Northern Christmas (MY TREE ARRIVED YESTERDAY HORRAY!).

And I'm planning my next vacation (which is ... 6? months away? Haha).

So yes, Clare, some day you will most likely say "I knew her back when..." but that day's not today. Nor is it tomorrow.

I'm still here, if you guys are. So don't give up on me yet :D


*Long-distance relationship
** They ended up hiring this guy who is a journalist with 18 YEARS of teching experience. No way I can compete with that lol.

Five six switch....

Crazy I am going...

Though hardly slowly...

This might possibly be the WORST week of all time for sources giving me the run-around. I'm going to play "journalist with a shred of dignity" and not say WHO has been consistently avoiding me... or pawning me off on other people in their respective organizations...

Suffice to say culprit #1.) SHOULD KNOW BETTER because they have a dedicated communications person, and are (generally) a pretty reputable organization. Generally good for being accessible to the media.

Culprit #2.)... well they are just trying to avoid me. And are stalling until the situation is "resolved"... and there "no story"

Sometimes, days like these, when I get jerked around by people who are trying to keep the public from knowing important information... it just about makes me want to quit. Which I KNOW is what THEY want. The culprits want me to give up, and for the story to die. And I don't want them to win, but how many times can I run full-speed at a brick wall before I end up too bruised to keep going?

Friday can't come soon enough.

Technical difficulties

Or....

Murphy's Law of Hosting.

I hosted the english half-hour of the afternoon show today.

My CBC debut of hosting. The job I have said I want to end up doing... assuming I have some degree of control over content and chasing stories I want to do.

How did it go?

The words "crash and burn" come to mind.

Ok, maybe that's a bit harsh. I did a pretty good job, I can acknowledge that. On the actual HOSTING bit? I can say I felt comfortable.

On the TECHNICAL BIT? Not so much.

The unique thing about our afternoon show out of Rankin Inlet is that there's no tech working the show with you. The host is in charge of pushing all the buttons, lining up the show on the computer and introducing it all. All while sounding relatively calm.

Me? Well, let's just say I had no clue what buttons I was supposed to push until 3 minutes before my intro. Seriously. (The whole affair was pretty spur-of-the-moment, but this one element made it particularly tricky).

I still didn't exactly understand what I was doing until right before my first item (after I played a song I loooove - - total control over song choice = best part of hosting). So the first... um... 15 minutes went pretty smooth. And then for some reason a sting (read: radio-speak for instrumental music used in-between items/stories/weather etc.) played when the item was supposed to. But I realized what happened right away, and reflex-pushed the button to stop it, then there was DEAD AIR.

Even when I was a wee child watching Full House I knew that DEAD AIR = BAD NEWS. It might as well be the cardinal sin of radio.

So DEAD AIR for probably 15 seconds? (I'm not really sure, it was long enough for me to start freaking out and clicking rapidly on the item I WANTED to play...)

I finally fixed it, and pressed the right button as 2 of my colleagues rushed into the studio, scared looks on their faces. Mine mirrored theirs.

During the next item (man it sounds like we have the longest show going... but we don't... it's only 30 minutes...but it felt like the shortest lifetime ever... if that makes any sense), our local producer said I had a wonderful voice for hosting, and we talked about how I really wanted to get back to my current affairs roots etc. It was great. She doesn't hand out praise very liberally, so it meant a lot to me.

Somehow we ended up losing about 2 minutes (doesn't sound like much, but makes all the difference in the world)... and I forgot to press the button that activates the theme (you are supposed to press it at 16:57:22) ... so co-worker came back in all a flutter asking if I remembered to start the theme (it runs UNDER the items at zero volume until the host is done saying the good-byes) and of course I didn't and then she worked some magic... and fixed it. The last item ended, we had 45 seconds to spare...

I started the extro... the signoff....

AND RAN INTO THE WALL.

How. Embarassing.

Again for you non-radio folks... the way the shows work is on every hour (and sometimes half-hour) there is a "wall" - it means your program is hijacked by regional or national HQ, for some sort of news. You cannot void the wall. You try to A-void the wall (ha-ha).

I did not manage to do that.

I ran head-first into it.

So between dead air, and running into the wall... and misplacing my pronouncer for one of the organizations two of the six times I had to say their name...

It wasn't exactly my finest moment in radio history.

I swear, if it wasn't for having to tech myself, I would have done much better. My reading was almost spot-on... and I enjoyed myself.

I guess it's just one of those things people will dig out of the archives to play at my humiliation when I'm rich and famous :P

These are a-two of my favourite things....

First, this:

To some, this might be an office nightmare. Someone's be-stickered desk... with mis-matched mini-hutch.

But, dear readers, we are in Nunavut. We are in Rankin Inlet, to be more specific, and one cannot be so picky.

You should have seen the monstrosity I had before this one. It was over five feet tall... with a permanently affixed solid fake-wood hutch. There was a keyboard underneath the desk, that at one time had been screwed to its underside, but somewhere along the line, the keyboard tray snapped down the middle, and then dislodged from it's right-hand runner.

The solution... was a very creative one... if not impractical, uncomfortable, and UGLY....

To use two bedside tables... stolen from god-knows-where... to squeeze the poor tray together, and support it ... as long as you didn't rest your hands on the tray, and used the most delicate of keystrokes to type your daily emails.

It only took a week of working here to decide that I simply COULD NOT HANDLE working at that thing. So I turned my computer around, and used the other half of my workstation. And stored books/documents/agendas/cups/plates/silverware/magazines etc. on the dilapidated piece of furniture.

Then today, we decided to do the grand move. To kick the old desk to the curb, and replace it with this upgrade. I now have so many nooks an crannies to stick pencils and post-its in... I don't know what I'm going to do with myself.

It's wonderful.

And Second...this:

Attention all fellow Qablunaaq*... this is a great little tool. I think somewhere along the line it was pilfered from some poor NAC student who took the Inuktitut language course (not currently offered in Rankin...). Now that I'm a little more (physically, mentally) settled, I find myself more interested in trying to understand, or at least pick apart, the language.

And this is a great way of starting that... I think, anyways.

*And, for the record, according to my dictionary... Qablunaaq translates as "white person". Interesting, eh?

I like feeling smart

Not that anyone would know, because cbc.ca doesn't do bylines (why, I have no idea.)

But I'm a teensy bit proud of this story. I dug it out of nowhere... or almost nowhere. And there are a couple follow-ups I'll be doing too.

I miss science writing. I did a science journalism concentration in my final year of j-school... and it feels nice to do it again. I find it really challenging, and I have to make sure I get the details ultra-straight, because other people (i.e. editors) are less likely to notice my errors.

The web writer on this story is a woman by the name of Donna Lee. And I give her some serious props for turning my script into a very understandable (at least I think so) print/online story.

Woot!

Certifiably awesome

Yesterday was a big day.

Yesterday, I successfully completed CBC/Radio-Canada's Hazard Prevention Program.

I passed with flying colours.

And learned two very important things too.

First: The following clipart/photo was found as an illustration for the "typical hazards" I might find at work. No joke.Also: do people charged with handling biological contaminants usually wear the same rubber gloves I do when washing the floor/dishes? Maybe they do. I'm just puttin' that out there.

Second. This is how CBC feels about cell phones and driving:Just FYI. Also I'm pretty sure the mothercorp had this logo fashioned just for them. How cool! I only hope they start making stickers of these...

So. If you ever have any questions about "hazardous occurrences - - otherwise known as accidents" you know who to call. :D

Rankin ramblings

I'm torn.

I can't decide which is better/worse:

To be sick and stay at home and get no work done all day (leaving others to pick up your slack... at least in my profession)

Or to be sick and come to work, functioning maybe at half-capacity (if that) but also possibly infecting fellow co-workers.

There's a not-so-fun cold bug going around Rankin these days. Coworker 1 was out most of last week... Coworker 2 had it this weekend... and Coworker 3 (who never ever takes time off due to illness) just left to go home for the rest of the day.

I have no desire to come down with this thing. Granted I'm always a fan of a little extra sleep... but not if it comes with a razor-blade throat and achy body.

I can't believe I'm saying this, but it actually feels like it is getting a bit warmer. I don't think we had a -50 (or lower) day at all last week... which is a VAST improvement. And I've been doing more walking than usual (for me) the past week as well.

Our poor decrepit work vehicle (which, mind you, is just 2 years old) is still DOA. He's been frozen stiff for over a week now. It makes things a lot harder from a reporting point of view. It's times like these I wish we had a backup snowmobile or something. At least then it would be easier to get around and talk to people.

I just got a kind of funny phone call, from this gourmet shop in the states. I was watching Martha Stewart (lol, I know, shocker) on Friday and there was this fellow from Sardinia sharing recipes etc. Anyways, they mentioned you could get a couple of the ingredients on their website (www.gourmetsardinia.com) ... things that would otherwise be impossible (for me anyways) to get my hands on. So I sauntered over to the site, and picked a couple things to buy (Bottarga and Fregula) but it didn't work, so I didn't give it a second thought. Just shrugged and thought "no biggie." My life wasn't going to be worthless without Fregula.

Anyways, they just called me, apologizing for it not going through, and they were swamped with orders... and it just struck me as quaint, sweet and funny all at the same time. Some dude's who appeared on Martha Stewart... his store called me to apologize for not being able to immediately process my order.

FINALLY: (I've been working on this blog post intermittently all day) I just got asked by Newsworld to do a story tomorrow morning. 6:25 EST with Madam Hiscox re: the power outages. I should have done this at the end of last week... but with the lack of power and general insanity, it just wasn't going to happen.

Anyways, as someone's said to me in the past... I've officially become CBC's "bad shit is happening in the north" correspondent. But really (*knock on wood*) what ELSE can happen?

Dear anonymous writer...

A question on Megan's blog got me thinking...

I don't know if I would have had the ability... or "soundness" of mind to answer that question a couple of months ago (yes, hard to believe I have been here almost 5 months)...

Actually, maybe I'm just in a good mood today.

Either way. I have my answer.

Why did I move to Nunavut?

Well this may be a cop-out answer... but "why not"?

I'm young, eager, and not really scared of the cold (not now that I have my Canada Goose parka). I have traveled parts of Europe, lived in France... 5 of our provinces and so... a window opened to the north and I crawled through.

It's cold.

It's remote...

But most days it's pretty darn cool too (yah yah, I'm punny)

I won't be here forever. But who knows what the next few years will bring. A year ago the north was a fleeting thought, and I remember thinking of it as a place where you "pay your dues" before moving on.

I don't really think that anymore. It's not about paying dues, it is about getting to do things I might not have the chance to do "down south." It's about having weekends off, and being a full-time reporter at 22. It's about holding onto this experience with both hands, squinting against the wild snow and wind.... and coming out the other end panting, out of breath, and totally exhilarated.

Total nostalgia

Sounds like Canada is doing an "all-Quebec City" episode today.

And nothing has made me this nostalgic for la belle province than the past 16 minutes.

Among other elements of the show... is a convo with a former colleague of mine, Catou MacKinnon.

Ever since I've started my "reporter" career (which I DO distinguish from my "shows/current affairs" career... aka what I was doing in Quebec before I got this job up north) I've kind of kept her in my head as the kind of reporter I want to be.

She was friendly, but took her job seriously.

She worked long hours when she needed to ... but made sure to take that time off when she could be spared.

She was driven, dedicated, but level-headed.

And always up for gelato lol!

I think the coolest thing about Catou was that she always made sure to include me. She threw /organized my "welcome to Quebec" AND my "Bon Voyage" pub nites. I was only there 5 months, but she totally made me feel welcome.

But what really got me ... and something I try to think about whenever I have to do a little extra time, or go to a conference or a public meeting that maybe I'm not really keen on going to... is how she dealt with the first fatality from the Valcartier crew. I was working in QC when the first batch went to Afghanistan... and that was intense enough. But then we had those deaths... three I think...I remember hearing she dropped everything when she went out and just covered it. Middle of the night. No one had to tell her to go. She just knew it had to be done, and she did it. It would have been the longest day ever for her, but she didn't complain.

She had to talk to the wives, mothers, fathers... friends of these men. And she did it with flawless grace. Sympathetic without pity. Somehow kept her own composure.

I can only dream I'd be able to pull something like that off with the same dignity.

So kudos, Catou. Kudos.

Early morning ring-y ding-ys

I was woken up by a phone call at 6 am this morning.

Newsworld chick: "Did I wake you up?"

Exhausted, sleep-deprived reporter: *mumble* "yes"

Newsworld chick: "Can you do a hit in 15 minutes"

Jackie: "uhhh, no? I am asleep?"

NWC: "How about at 7:30"

Jackie: "Um, yah, I can do that"

NWC: "Okay, i'll call you in half an hour"

I would LOOOVE to be able to sleep past 6 some day this week. It would rock.
But if not, I'll settled for a coma this weekend.

Adrenaline haze

Okay, so I've stopped shaking. This is a good thing.

I just did my first live news hit. Ever. It was a 2 (maybe 3?) minute "drive" (CBC-talk for quick 'n' dirty) on CBC Newsworld with Heather Hiscox.

As I was waiting on the phone, listening to Colleen Jones itemize the weather conditions ... I was concentrating on my breathing, and thinking to myself "I have to remember what this is like, I have to blog about this."

So if you are tired of hearing about my newfound CBC popularity, you might as well skip this entry, and go do the morning crossword... or whatever it is you people do :P I won't be insulted. I'm pretty sure even my parents are tired of hearing about it!

I think the key to doing this kind of reporting is not to over think it (lol, a challenge for anyone who knows me). I remember doing a similar thing in journalism school, and our prof telling us not to write out exactly what we were going to say, just to make notes of the points you want to hit. So of course, I wrote out exactly what I was going to say, and tried my darnedest to sound as "non-rehearsed" as possible.

This time, I actually... without really thinking about my j-school training ... did exactly what I was supposed to. But I maintain a lot of that comes from being the "national expert" (at least in CBC's eyes, it seems) on this curse-ed blizzard. I've explained the situation, and its many angles, so many times to so many people over the past couple days.

I have answered more phones, talked to more new people, and done more interviews in the past 48 hours than I have in any other point in my life. And I was just PUMPING with adrenaline the whole time. It's kind of funny to look back on yesterday. I wish I could have seen myself through my colleagues eyes.

Was I flustered? Was I excited? Was I focussed? Was I driven? Overwhelmed? Giddy?

I was trying to explain the complexity of my day to my supervisor yesterday evening, all the shows I was doing work for, how that compared to my normal duties... and I couldn't even get the words out. I couldn't even give a coherent account of the day. It's like I went through the day in an adrenaline haze.

But as I sit here and try to think back... I realize I really owe my co-workers big time. Normally I try not to involve them in my blog, but I really... think they deserve some mega props. If it wasn't for Selma... I never would have chased this story. She's the one that had the interview with the cashier in Whale Cove. She's the one that called her back to get a comment in English about the store stock. And Betty. Betty kept calling people, without me asking and then turning around to say "Jackie, I have X on the phone, you should talk to them." And when I needed additional sources for As it Happens and Sounds like Canada... she had them, a constant slew of names and phone numbers. The two of them, well, Selma and Betty made me look good. I couldn't have done this without them.

And finally Kevin. It is just, so refreshing to have someone just first, believe in you so much... but not just that, push you to believe in yourself so that you can make other people believe in you too. Monday night - back in the days when this was "just" a 5-day storm haha - Kevin says to me "you should pitch this to national news" ... and I am pretty sure I brushed him off. I didn't really think it was a news story, it was just a storm. A persistent storm, but a just a storm. I didn't call national news that night, but I did put a call into Sounds like Canada.

It wasn't until the next morning, when I looked outside, and it was as bad a blizzard as it had been all week (if not worse) that I realized our "little" blizzard was BIG news. So I did call, national news WAS interested. And things spun out from there. My phone calls and hectic day were punctuated by Kevin's enthusiasm and praise... all I could ask for, and more than I should have demanded of a guy who had stuff of his own to deal with (a very recent death in the family).
So thanks Selma, thanks Betty ... I figure you'll not ever really read this, so that falls on deaf ears...(I'll have to write a real thank you letter for them) but Kevin does.

So thank you Kevin. I couldn't have done this without your support. I'll always remember that.

click clack go the train tracks...

Or, my shoes.

My mother was somewhat.... disgusted at my "home for Christmas" wardrobe.

I believe at one point she cried "don't you own a pair of pants that look like they belong on a WOMAN!!!???!!"

So here I am. Trying out my new duds. Feeling grossly over-dressed... because the north, and my office is no exception, definitely takes the whole "business casual" idea to heart.

Yesterday I eased into the process of "dressing for success" by wearing cotton dress pants. And today I've gone all out, fancy pants and pretty shoes. While I'm a little embarrassed by the clacking noises I make down the hallway to the break room (funny how, this time last year I reveled in that sound... marching through Carleton's tunnels...) I also love how sleek dress pants and fancy shoes look together.

I'm so posh.

PC LOAD LETTER?????

I don't know what it is, in particular, that makes office phones so freaking difficult for me to understand.
I literally had just mastered all the quirky little features of my old phone (and programmed the speed dial for my news editor / producer...), figured out what buttons didn't work...

And today I come into work with a new one glaring at me from my desk.

Yes it's prettier than the old one. But much more confusing. The buttons don't have WORDS on them, so I have to associate a SYMBOL with a meaning... which is all very well and good when it's a red octagon we're talking about, but how in the world was I supposed to know that the swirly "Nortel" symbol actually was the "feature" key?

And when there is an incoming call, there is a triangle with a phone receiver hovering over it. When that call is picked up, the receiver moves to the left. AND THEN when its on hold, it moves to underneath the triangle.

Ok, in hindsight, the symbols actually make sense for this one. I just realized the triangle with the receiver over it is supposed to be an old-school telephone. And when it is on hold, its like the receiver is beside the phone (or in front of it) and when it is in use, its like the receiver is being held straight up-and-down... so like the phone is talking to the receiver.

Doesn't change the fact that I'm still struggling.