The real people of Vancouver

Canucks are my team. From Sedins to Kesler, Burrows to Edler, Raymond to Torres. Love them all. I took a trip out to Vancouver to watch the final game of the Stanley Cup Playoffs. I was hoping to experience some excitement like the Olympics if we won. I wasn't even close to being impressed. Yes I was disappointed that they lost but I am not even thinking about that anymore. What happened downtown Vancouver after that final whistle was complete and utter disgrace. I am so embarrassed. The rioters were not fans. They were just idiots who found an opportunity to cause chaos. The real fans were the ones who cheered on Boston as they got the cup. The real fans where the ones who respectfully turned their backs and went home. The real fans were the ones who applauded the effort and realized that the Canucks are an amazing team for getting that far. Boston deserved the cup, they played a better game and were all around the better team. I am still proud of the Canucks, I am still proud to call B.C. my home. In no way did the riots reflect the humanity and population of Vancouver. The real Vancouverites were the ones who, at seven AM the next morning, were downtown helping clean up the mess that was made by the outraged douche bags. These rioters had a plan regardless if the game was won or lost. There was a truck downtown specifically there to be torched. What really ercks my veins is that the rioters got all the publicity, but where were the media teams showing all the thousands more people helping to clean up the city. Those people should be on the news, those are the people who should be shown to represent our city. It takes years to build up a good reputation, and only seconds to destroy it. Thank you to all the police and public who helped clean up the destruction and make the city shine with the beauty it possesses. You guys are the true fans, you guys are the true Canadians. You guys are amazing-as.

Let's get it started...

It's been ten years since I posted. Sorry. It's come to an end (for a while now) of a very long, hectic and exciting year at school. The strike, the new degree, moving, getting accepted to Australia (WOO!), new relationships, break ups, and mass amounts of little things adding up. It feels good to finally get school out of the way and out of my mind. Time to lay back, chill out, and soak up the summer days to come. I've always loved the summer and the relaxing vibe that comes along with it. I've recently got a job at the Rock Cod Cafe and have already had some amazing adventures with friends and family. Here we go. I have a feeling this summer will be one to remember. So let's grab it by it's reigns and take everything as it comes. I promise to keep this blog up to date with regular postings of adventures. Let's make it amazing as.

Strike!

This ain't no game of bowling. No, it's the real deal. My wonderful school-who's motto is "love where you learn"- VIU is on strike. It has been a week so far and I don't know what to think. It is totally cutting into my 4 year plan. HA! Yeah right. For those of you who know me, you know I don't have plans. I just go with the flow. But sometimes that can lead to drowning. I don't know if I really know what the teachers are fighting for. There is talk about pay raises, no lay offs, no cuts, more benefits. It sounds like it is all for the teachers. However, I don't believe they are striking for themselves. In fact I KNOW they aren't. From the few teachers I've met here at VIU, they all care so much about our education and the students. So it is pretty much impossible for me to think that they are doing this strike without our best interests at heart. Yeah it sucks now, but it would have only sucked more if they didn't take a stand. My programs aren't really affected by any program cuts the government is trying to make, so I am not too worried what the turn out will be. But I am so angry that the government is trying to change what VIU is known for. A place close to home, good classes, AMAZING teachers and the one on one class sizes. With all this strike going on, there is good and bad to it. First off, since the teachers and faculty are supposed to completely abandon their posts, there is no contact whatsoever going on between students and faculty. So that means no word on classes, homework and the worst part--no news on Australia. I was supposed to hear by now if they had accepted me into the exchange program. It is killing me! I don't know when I'll find out and I am getting really nervous. But then again, I am all for taking this break. I love not being in school. Then it had me thinking. If I am so willing to take a break from school, losing all the learning, getting so far behind and maybe even not be able to finish the semester in time for a summer job, then why am I wasting my time and money? This break has given me a lot to think about and as much as I hate the idea of what I am about to say, I am just being honest. I am seriously considering dropping out of school. Because I am up for exchange, transferring would be a bad idea because I lose all commitment to VIU. If I were to transfer, yeah I would get to continue on my education, but exchange would be out of the question. I never wanted to be in school, I only did it to have a plan. I wish I traveled, gotten to know myself, had fun. But I didn't. I went straight to school. I think I am just afraid of my future and by dropping out I am dropping possibilities. At this point, I want learning to be put on hold so I can explore more of the world and more of me. Find out what I really want to do. Learning is everywhere and you don't need a school to find it. I love where I learn and I am in full support of our teachers. They are amazing as---

Will you be my Valentine?

I have never been a big fan of Valentines day. I blame this on my childhood experiences of the card exchange. Each year I would go out of my way to give that special someone a special card. I however would never get a special one in return which led to me being bitter on Valentines day. I would refer to it as "Barf Day", "Loser Love Day" or the ever popular "Single Awareness Day". Isn't it funny how the acronym for Single Awareness Day is SAD? Oh the irony. The bitterness didn't just arise from having no significant other but what Valentines Day consists of. I don't like how the day is committed to showing love for you significant other forced upon us by the greeting card company. It was a made up holiday by Hallmark to increase revenues. Nothing significant happened on that day. No birth of Jesus or anything. The point is, if you love someone shouldn't you show it all year round and instead of just committing one day to it? Cutesy little things should be done all year round. I don't think I would feel intensionally loved by someone if it was just shown once a year by a dozen roses and a pretty card. It is good to show it on Valentines Day too, just don't make it a habit of it happening just that one day. On the other hand you get all those single folk who feel sorry for themselves and bury away in a hole to hide from the shame of being single. But there is not shame. No matter your status on Valentines day, you are loved. You should feel loved. Just because there isn't someone right by your side sending you a dozen roses and a pretty card doesn't mean you are shameful or a loser. You are just different, and loved. So to all my single friends, committed friends or family friends-- Will you be my Valentine? For life? Cause I love you.

"Love is fragile. And we're not always its best caretakers. We just muddle through and do the best we can. And hope this fragile thing survives against all odds."

Imagination...

Imagination is something we all have taken for granted. Remember those days of being a child and playing in your tree fort. Pretending you were stranded in a jungle and the only means of food were what you could find around the yard. Remember playing house and dress up? Wearing your mothers heals as your shaking legs walked up and down the stairs with gleaming ruby red lipstick applied in a sloppy clown smile to your lips? Our imaginations would be able to flourish subconsciously into uncountable fairy tales. I believe I still possess the power to be imaginative. But it is a different kind of imagination. Instead of pretending to be grown up in my mother's heels, I now imagine a life and world without poverty and pain. Without war and struggle. It is disgusting to see all God's amazing creations just thrown away like they are recyclable. The truth is they aren't and we are doing a horrible job of realizing it. The power of imagination is wonderful but dangerous. We can't get too caught up in our false life because we miss out on reality. And reality is striking us everyday in the face with horrible, horrific events occurring around the globe and in our own backyards. We are dangerously getting out of control. We aren't able to see that our imaginations aren't reality-- these things are happening today. But every once in a while it is good to have to hope and hide ourselves in our own little worlds of peace, love and happiness. Maybe one day if all our imaginations are strong enough, it will all come true. "Imagine all the people, living life in peace"-- John Lennon

Funny little miracles.

My friend just had something completely amazing happen to her. She received a greeting from her potential Prince Charming, soul mate, frog. The funny little fairy tale happening took place the other night when she so coincidentally posted her in her status for someone to text her the same night her friend added a random as a friend. The random noticed the status and decided to give her a text. The ended up chatting the whole night and unknowingly may have started the most beautiful love affair of their lives. This being such a fairy tale moment makes me just a lil bit jealous. I've always wanted something special like that happen to me. I've always dreamed of my handsome knight in shining armor riding up on a full white horse with a single red rose to my door. That and I used to dream N'Sync or The Backstreet Boys would sing to me from my driveway up into my window. I was a little lame. No bigs. But I've always wanted some little joy like that to happen to me. It is really cute and such an amazing story comes out of it. I hope it all works out for my nameless friend. Even though it is a bit of a sketchy way to start some form of relationship, he seems really cool. They are pretty much the same person and he could be the good little Christian boy she has been searching for. This is so exciting for her and I am so proud she didn't shy away from this God moment. And it just means I now get to live vicariously through her. Which I love.Shes so bashful! I love her!---"I can hear the bells <3"

I found love...

I have never been more in love with a piece of poetry. Anis Mojgani is such an amazing writer. He finds the words that just flow right into your heart. He finds the words that seep into your soul. The words that make your eyes water and your mouth smile. The words so inspirational it makes me feel like I truly am worth something in this big old world. The poem speaks for itself. I just have one thing to say- Shake the dust...

"This is for the fat girls.

This is for the little brothers.

This is for the school-yard wimps, this is for the childhood bullies who tormented them.

This is for the former prom queen, this is for the milk-crate ball players.

This is for the nighttime cereal eaters and for the retired, elderly Wal-Mart store front door greeters.

Shake the dust.
This is for the benches and the people sitting upon them,

for the bus drivers driving a million broken hymns,

for the men who have to hold down three jobs simply to hold up their children,

for the nighttime schoolers and the midnight bike riders who are trying to fly. Shake the dust.
This is for the two-year-olds who cannot be understood because they speak half-English and half-god.

Shake the dust.
For the girls with the brothers who are going crazy,

for those gym class wall flowers and the twelve-year-olds afraid of taking public showers,

for the kid who's always late to class because he forgets the combination to his lockers,

for the girl who loves somebody else.

Shake the dust.
This is for the hard men, the hard men who want to love but know that is won't come.

For the ones who are forgotten, the ones the amendments do not stand up for.

For the ones who are told to speak only when you are spoken to and then are never spoken to. Speak every time you stand so you do not forget yourself.

Do not let a moment go by that doesn't remind you that your heart beats 900 times a day and that there are enough gallons of blood to make you an ocean.

Do not settle for letting these waves settle and the dust to collect in your veins.
This is for the celibate pedophile who keeps on struggling,

for the poetry teachers and for the people who go on vacations alone.

For the sweat that drips off of Mick Jaggers' singing lips and for the shaking skirt on Tina Turner's shaking hips, for the heavens and for the hells through which Tina has lived.
This is for the tired and for the dreamers and for those families who'll never be like the Cleavers with perfectly made dinners and sons like Wally and the Beaver.
This is for the biggots,

this is for the sexists,

this is for the killers.

This is for the big house, pen-sentenced cats becoming redeemers and for the springtime that always shows up after the winters.
This? This is for you.

Make sure that by the time fisherman returns you are gone.

Because just like the days, I burn both ends and every time I write, every time I open my eyes I am cutting out a part of myself to give to you.
So shake the dust and take me with you when you do for none of this has never been for me.

All that pushes and pulls, pushes and pulls for you.

So grab this world by its clothespins and shake it out again and again and jump on top and take it for a spin and when you hop off shake it again for this is yours.

Make my words worth it, make this not just another poem that I write, not just another poem like just another night that sits heavy above us all.

Walk into it, breathe it in, let is crash through the halls of your arms at the millions of years of millions of poets coursing like blood pumping and pushing making you live, shaking the dust.
So when the world knocks at your front door, clutch the knob and open on up, running forward into its widespread greeting arms with your hands before you, fingertips trembling though they may be"

-

Shake the Dust by Anis Mojgani

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HuydRgVxWg4