I'm Being Honest Here
I'm not going to lie. It's been a crap week. Yesterday, I get all excited because it's the night for the Banff FilmFesta. Yay! I've been waiting all year for this. I don't even care that I'm going alone b/c no one I know cares. It's great! Sign that things are about to turn for the worse: our esteemed prime minister is making a campaign stop here and I'm assigned to cover it. Great. More blah blah blah. Mind you, I'm not just prejudiced against him but all politicians in general during an election. But I have to go and get some tape. Fine. It's my job.
Turn for the worse: His plane gets delayed due to weather. He will now be appearing at 4pm instead of 2:30. That's going to cut things a little tight for me and my filmfesta but it's still feasible. He doesn't show until 4:30, has a speech, does a little presser, in which no local media are allowed questions, and it's almost 6pm before I'm out the door. It's 7km back to the office and my colleague is nice enough to cut clips for me in the car while I weave through traffice. I'm done my stories by 6:41 and I'm at the filmfesta at 7:10, just late enough to miss all the adverts but not the main events.
Later, while text messaging my newest romantic interest, I sense a tone of indifference on his part. I know. Many of you say tone is non-existent or can be misinterpreted over electronic means. I agree. Except you underestimate my powers of over-analysis, general worry and insecurity....and my track record for being exactly right.
To start my totally crap day during the middle of a crap week, I'm sent out to a small town to gauge the 'mood' of the community after a cop shooting. The town is three hours away and snow is expected and they tell me I'm going less than 15 minutes before I'm due to hit the road. If ever there was a story I was tempted to Jayson Blair, this would be it.
But I don't. I go to the small town. I chat with everyone. I file some fantastic clips. And then I get stuck in a blizzard in the middle of frickin' nowhere while I'm supposed to do my live hit on the afternoon show. No cell service and I almost get stuck in a ditch.
I finally get back to the city, file my stories and make plans to have a drink with my current romance guy. We are having beer. And he starts talking about our relationship.
Yup, we're done. He doesn't think our personalities match. Or something. I dunno. It's like a song I've heard way too many times before and I've blurred out the details but I still remember the drum and the bass line but not the words.
Yes, I got dumped. It isn't the first time and I'm guessing it won't be the last.
On the bright side, I don't have to worry about leaving anyone behind when I decide to move to Australia. Or Thailand. Or Ghana.
Oh...and forget about me being a revisionist. I pledge never to erase another post again. Sorry about that. Won't happen again.
Turn for the worse: His plane gets delayed due to weather. He will now be appearing at 4pm instead of 2:30. That's going to cut things a little tight for me and my filmfesta but it's still feasible. He doesn't show until 4:30, has a speech, does a little presser, in which no local media are allowed questions, and it's almost 6pm before I'm out the door. It's 7km back to the office and my colleague is nice enough to cut clips for me in the car while I weave through traffice. I'm done my stories by 6:41 and I'm at the filmfesta at 7:10, just late enough to miss all the adverts but not the main events.
Later, while text messaging my newest romantic interest, I sense a tone of indifference on his part. I know. Many of you say tone is non-existent or can be misinterpreted over electronic means. I agree. Except you underestimate my powers of over-analysis, general worry and insecurity....and my track record for being exactly right.
To start my totally crap day during the middle of a crap week, I'm sent out to a small town to gauge the 'mood' of the community after a cop shooting. The town is three hours away and snow is expected and they tell me I'm going less than 15 minutes before I'm due to hit the road. If ever there was a story I was tempted to Jayson Blair, this would be it.
But I don't. I go to the small town. I chat with everyone. I file some fantastic clips. And then I get stuck in a blizzard in the middle of frickin' nowhere while I'm supposed to do my live hit on the afternoon show. No cell service and I almost get stuck in a ditch.
I finally get back to the city, file my stories and make plans to have a drink with my current romance guy. We are having beer. And he starts talking about our relationship.
Yup, we're done. He doesn't think our personalities match. Or something. I dunno. It's like a song I've heard way too many times before and I've blurred out the details but I still remember the drum and the bass line but not the words.
Yes, I got dumped. It isn't the first time and I'm guessing it won't be the last.
On the bright side, I don't have to worry about leaving anyone behind when I decide to move to Australia. Or Thailand. Or Ghana.
Oh...and forget about me being a revisionist. I pledge never to erase another post again. Sorry about that. Won't happen again.
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