Thursday, July 28, 2005

You're listening to ...

I trained on line up today. And this of course did nothing but add to my increasing angst on what the heck I am doing with my life... More on that later.

So, line up involves writing news stories, lining them in in order for newsreading, then going on-air to read them. The shift runs from 10-6pm and it's one crazy thirty-minute treadmill. You're constantly working, pulling items from syndication feeds from Torono, re-writing awful scripts (from Toronto again), and watching the darn clock when on the air in order to stay within the time limit. You have to also prepare the news every half hour - a 6 minute cast at the top of each hour, then something called a one-minute footprint at the bottom of each hour - and this goes on literally from 11:30am to 5:30pm. The guy who was traning me, Laurence Wall, is a huge pro and loves his work. He gets such a kick out of changing scripts and his voice commands attention. He turns a newscast into a work of art. They send people from out of town to come train with him, so I'm in the big leagues here. Anyway, I got to follow him around all day "observing" and then they threw me on air to do the 2:30 and 3:30 footprints. They were actually fun to do and of course, being the ham that I am, I love being on-air. Laurence said, for a first time go at it, you were pretty darn good.

Anyway, I must really sleep well tonight because I was late for Laurence this morning and he was a bit peeved... tomorrow I read the news at 1:30 2, 2:30, and 3. What a treat.

Wednesday, July 27, 2005

Insomnia sucks...

Insomnia is very hard to explain to people who've never experienced its cold grip. People just don't get it. As a sufferer, the most common question I get about it is "Well... what do you doooo??" Heck, I'd want to know what someone who can't sleep does until 5am sometimes.

Thing is, there's not much to do. It's past midnight afterall, everyone else in the house is fast asleep, so there's noone to talk to. I can't use the computer since it's in the living room, where my mother is sleeping now since it happens to be cooler than the rest of the place. So you just, well, stay awake.

In bed, during a bout of insomnia, my brain begins to whirr like an old computer hardrive. I make career strategies, exercise work out plans, mentally organizes my closets, lists people I still owe second year notes to. it's time to go back to school - but where? should you acecpt carleton u's offer or decline? where is your career going anyway? are you even cut out for journalism? you havent produced a piece in such a long time. i should have taken arts in school instead of engineering! you need to learn to analyze sotires better. but how? will dad help out with tuition fees if i get into school somewhere else? did you remember to put all the scripts into line up folder before leaving work? what would it be like if you were raised in the states. did you call the 6:40 guest to tell him to come in for the interview a half-hour earlier? Oh ya, you did - remember he was peeved. where are you going to get sources for that great idea you pitched a month ago? oh god - was it a month ago? shoot - i had to email JD about dinner tomorrow. Note to Self: Remember To Email JD About Dinner Tomorrow. they're gonna think you're not interested in the work anymore. they're gonna think you're unreliable. you need to think of a strategy to keep your ideas fresh. but i am just so tiiiired. i really need to learn how to write if i want to be a newsreader. i wish i could write columns. damn - you have to call Mme Pommez to go see her at the hospice. why are you such a procrastinator about these things. Note To Self: Call Mme Pommez. Don't forget. i used to write, but why can't i write anymore? what's wrong with my brain - why aren't you smart anymore? i dont think im using my blog in a smart way. i should write insightful things in it. i cant think about morals to my stories. stories must have morals, right? i should make a list of things i can write about. golden rule: write about what you know....

Then I make lists. In my brain, and on paper. I get up and make lists of things i should do when I have to "get up," lists of insightful things I should write about. a career plan. things to buy the next day from the drugstore. That's what happens... eyes as round as CDs, brains making soft noises in the darkness.

It's really my fault. I don't exercise, don't do yoga, don't drink warm milk or chamomile tea. I don't take warm baths. Sometimes I wonder if having insomnia is something I am so used to now that I almost dont mind having it. It's a pain in the backside of course in the morning when you feel you've run a marathon, or you walk around feeling like you've just stepped off a 6 hourr red-eye flight. But it's a conversation starter. It's something not many people I know at least have, and it seems to stir so much curiosity in non-sufferers.

One of the upsides of insomnia - at least of my insomnia - is that after a bout of a week of it, my body gets so tired I'm forced to sleep. Just getting ready for the next bout...

How's that for writing about what you know.

Monday, July 25, 2005

testing things out still..

pls dont mind the mess - we are under construction to serve you better

A little internet loving? Uh, no thanks!

Im soooooooo sick. I have the immune system of an ameoba. Don't really know what that means - but I am sooooo sick. My 2 sisters and BIL (bro-in-law) all got sick last week and I was like, "YEEEES - the viruses missed me!" Now I'm calling my exec producer at 6am to groan I can't come in today.

I was checking out naseeb last night and some guy asks for a chat. What the heck, I accept. He turns out to be some 38 yr old uncle from Indiannapolis. His photo reminded me of the type who get back home.. with artificial wall murals in the BG. His had a fake sea (complete with lapping waves) and 2 palm trees that looked like they were coming out of his ears. No matter... it's all part of trying to remain non-judgemental. After exchanging hellos, this is what happens:

Uncle Palm: are you married?
Me: no
Uncle: Have a boyfriend?
Me: I don't date
Uncle: Oh
Me: silence
Uncle: So what do you say if somebody likes you?
Me: go to my dad
Uncle: what would he do?
Me: I dunno, check them out... why do you ask?
Uncle: give me your dad's number. I like you.
Me: Sorry, I think you're a little too old plus I'm not interested.
Uncle: But you look older
Me: I'm 25
Uncle: But you look at least 30 [now I'm getting peeved]
Me: It's not my fault!
Uncle: It is your fault. You should be exercising to maintian your weight
Me: Are you calling me fat?
Uncle: A girl your age shouldn't be carrying around all the weight you have.
Me: [wtf?!] thanks for the chat.... no wonder you're still single at your age
[hit BLOCK button]

Notice how I don't block his a** as soon as he asks for my dad's number or if I have a boyfriend. This conversation did nothing for my sad body image and creeped me out. I was thinking about how cooler the girls are on naseeb than these guys. Why!!?? Are there no normal people of the male species anywhere? Why do they have to either call you fat or ask you out on a hooka date? that story later.... but let me tell you that convo would have turned ugly if I didn't get an explanantion of what a hooka was... I'm either sheltered or too Canadian... maybe both.

And then there was my Blog

There is always something so sweet about new beginnings (am I cheesing u out yet?)..

I vowed to stop wasting time on the internet not 3 days ago, and I respond to that vow by creating a naseeb account AND now this. I'm extremely uncreative even though as an associate producer of a morning show, my job demands creativity everytime I walk into the building. At least I can make people laugh...

Anyway - welcome to my blog :) Hope you find something that interests you here and that will kill your boredom... don't expect to be inspired.