Fast paced, but slow moving West Coast.

What day is it, again?

I thought everything was supposed to slow down in my life after I arrived.

I made a list before I moved of all the things I wanted to accomplish in this small town. So far, I've only been able to cross off 3 of the 10 'summer to-dos'. Sad, but true.

My days are taken up with the current affairs news show I'm working on for the summer: booking interviews, live news and weather breaks and connecting with members of my community and northern region of B.C.

The first news break I had to do was about 3 weeks ago. I sat in the chair in front of the tech board. My jaw began to shake uncontrollably. My mouth went dry. I looked up at the clock, I had 40 secs to go.

All I had to do was hit play on the chime and turn my mic on.

I felt like my mind had drawn a complete blank. All that I could think about was the strength of the thumping in my chest. If there had been another person in the studio with me I'm positive they would have been distracted by the rapid noise my heart seemed to be making.

Click, switch, speak: It was that easy.

But, in my mind I pictured the thousands of listeners across all of Northern B.C. who would hear this minute and a half long break, yeah just a minute and a half what was I freaking over?

Like a hound at the gate, the second hand hit the 12 and I was off! Away on the news break races.

Never fear, this has a simple but positive ending. I finished my first news break with no major hitch. Although, my knees wouldn't stop shaking afterwards.

So, that's how I spend my days.

My evenings are completely different.

I throw on a clean black apron and clip my hair back and nestle my feet into a pair of comfortable rocketdogs and head down to the best known place to eat in town.

People come from very, very far away to eat here. There are only 11 tables and we're booked solid just about every night. The chef's mandate seems to be: fresh, local and personable. There are no airs, but the food is better than anything you'd find in Vancouver.

I've served everyone from European families on holidays, fishermen needing a break from their galleys and multi-billionaires in from their private yacht. Everyone eats side by side and excuses themselves as they have to squeeze past through the tightly placed tables.

It's a great place to make a bit of money for my trip (2 months to go) and meet some interesting people.

My weekends are spent as a tourist in my own town.

Brandon and I try to get out and see what we can, while staying as active as possible.

This past weekend the North Pacific Cannery was our must see location. It was a working cannery up until the mid 70's. My mom spent a summer filleting fish there.

It's now a museum that is always very quiet on dreary days. We chose to see it on the dreariest of summer days. We wanted to see it in it's truest of states.

Little buddies.

Making friends in a new town can sometimes be a hard thing to do, but with these two little beings first impressions definitely don't matter. We became instant friends.



My uncle has always had West Highland Terriers. He had two when I used to live just up the road. As a little girl I would come down to his house and spend rainy Sunday afternoons dressing them up and pretending they were royalty who were magically stuck in the bodies of little, white dogs.

Today now that I'm my uncle's tenant for the summer I get to play with his dogs again. They aren't the same ones I grew up with, but they're no less adorable.

This is the old girl, Tempest. When ever anyone resembling a human comes near she flops on her back, ordering you to give her a belly rub. She has no shame.



Now this wee man is, Jaques. He's the puppy and he won't let you forget it. My time off work has permitted me time to work on his naughty behaviour. If anyone out there has any tricks to inspire him to NOT piddle on the dishwasher it would be greatly appreciated. But lordy, he's cute.



The neighbour's black and white cat, Dumpy, is the dog's best friend. Strange, I know. So, it's the four of us holding the fort: Jaques, Tempest, Dumpy and me.

A sexy town?

I was one of the many that went to see Sex and the City on the first night that it arrived on the big screen.

Carla and I went together. We paid our $7.75 and had our purses full of grocery store snacks. It was a date.

The theatre was surprisingly empty for the late show of this movie that had received so much media hype. It didn't really matter because I was hyped.

It was my time to escape back to the time that I spent in the big city, meeting up with friends for martinis at midnight. Life here on the sleepy coast is much different.

We settled into our seats and giggled with excitement. We'd both been looking forward to this girly date.

A large group of girls settled right behind us. At first this didn't seem like an issue. I figured the theatre would soon be full of women and it would become a fabulous estrogen fest for two glorious hours.

But no, they had to start it all off by cracking beers, which they spilled everywhere. They grew ever more intoxicated as the film rolled on.

These 'ladies', (yes I'm being sarcastic) got louder and louder with each round that they chugged.

"What the fuck is she wearing?"

"Yeah that looks like something Napolio would wear. Wait, what's that guy's name?"

"Napoleon."

"Yeah him."

"It's cochur."

(I think this one meant couture, but didn't know how to pronounce the word)

"Whatever, it looks like shit."

So, yes, not in the same order, but this is definitely a conversation that took place within ear shot of the entire audience.

I also loved the part when there would be a same-sex love smooch and these 'ladies' would cry out in disgusted horror. Nice.

Okay, I sound like I'm mocking them. I just want to point out that it's easy for these two very different worlds to scoff at one another. Rural versus urban. At this time I'm in a place where I can standup for either side. I enjoy aspects of both worlds. I guess I'm a rurban. Oh that's bad, but you know what I mean.

This town may be the farthest thing from martinis at midnight, but it has an element of sexiness that not even Queen Street West nor the Brooklyn Bridge can top.

The sun setting across the harbour, behind Digby Island, the scene of a weather worn fishing vessel slow up her pace as she nears the marina. Kayaking along the shoreline to look up and see the old train station that seems to have stood since the beginning.

It's not just through rose coloured glasses that you can see beauty in this town. It's romantic and ruggedly sexy.

Beyond the coastal view.

I'm here, but not all there.

My boyfriend and I moved up to my little hometown on the North West Coast. His work contract began right away, but mine is a bit of a wait. And I haven't been very patient.

I'm helping my uncle, the collector, get organized right now, but for some reason this busy work doesn't keep me busy enough.

My lovely friend, Carla moved up here as well. Her contract also began right away.

So, me, yeah I'm in a weird void of post university limbo. I'm trying to make the most of it... any suggestions? Honing in on the domestic diva role is beginning to get tired.

When my boyfriend asked if I wanted to accompany him on a business trip into the interior I jumped at the chance. This is a day and a half to just get away! From what? I don't know because I just arrived, but I felt that I needed a break.

So, I'm playing tourist in a town I spent my childhood summers traveling too. Smithers, B.C is a beautiful town if someone's looking for somewhere North, but not too North to see.

Our family friend has a holistic book store here. She serves up delicious bowls of lentil soup and steams up fabulous cappuccinos. This lovely hole in the wall smells of chai. The front door has bells that calmly chime that welcomes every new visitor.

I look up from my worn in laptop here at my wireless internet post and there's another mud covered truck parked illegally outside. But beyond that a snow capped mountain range stands on permanent look out over this quaint valley town.

This is just the break I needed from my other break; you know, the longer one.

New York, New York!

We walked. We ate. We talked. We watched.

I've never seen anything quite like it. Manhattan boggled my mind. It's constantly moving. I've also never walked so much in my life.

Each day we would grab a wonderful cup of coffee for me and a chai latte for my lovely friend, Gemma and just plunk ourselves down and watch people. There's an endless amusing quality to New Yorkers and even the city's visitors. Their goings-on were captivating.

We stayed with my cousin who lives an hour North of the city. Believe it or not she lives in the country, which was a wonderful contrast to come home to at night.

I didn't make the typical New York tourist stops: buying a fake handbag in an alleyway on Canal St., making it to the top of the Empire State Building, touching Ms. Liberty. No, I was perfectly content with walking all day, while making frequent meal breaks. There's just so much to eat and see.

It was a whirlwind, but completely worth every penny AND calorie.



*Grand Central Station




*Central Park






*SOHO




*Brooklyn Bridge




*Magnolia Bakery @ 401 Bleeker

What a way to wrap it up

A way up on the 16th floor of an upscale, St. Claire West condominium sat a group of bewildered journalism students.

Bewildered because it's the last week of classes before we get the boot into the real world. And upscale because we were invited over to our Professor's home to listen to our final documentaries whilst sipping white wine.

What a way to wind it up.

This radio documentary class has come to feel like a little family for me. I've grown attached to everyone. It's hard to fathom that I may never see any of them again.

I did this to myself when I graduated high school too. I grow melancholy at the thought of good byes, but once it's that time I'm ready to hit the road and experience the next chapter.

So don't fret I won't shed too many tears.

Over our four years together we've watched each other grow into astute, self sufficient, twenty-somethings. I'm so proud of each and everyone of them.

But the goodbyes don't have to be said just yet. For now we'll just sip our wine.

Flowers a'Bloom

It's beginning to warm up. You can see every one's spirit take one of those big, all encompassing (cat) stretches. It's been a long Winter, but Spring is beginning to bloom -finally

The Canada Blooms trade show was like an enormous green house in downtown Toronto. Complete with every shade of tulip; there was also authentic bird sounds and small water features.

It was a nice place to spend a Saturday afternoon. It had me looking forward to the season ahead.

I don't think I would have gone to enjoy this man-made ambiance if I were not covering it for a magazine I work part-time for. I know, shame! My story was on sustainable bird houses.

I know, sustainable bird houses? Well I guess if we're going to be serious about this green living thing the birds have to pitch in too.

ha. I crack myself up.