NO. God, no, I don't think they should legalize marijuana. I'm old school. And to me, what's wrong is wrong. As a country we have to have some boundaries. If we legalize marijuana, what's next? Making crack and crystal meth legal? Just because a lot of people do it for fun doesn't mean it should be legal. Oh, hey, I like to kill people for fun. Can we make that legal so I can murder people guilt free? Slowly and surely, we're going to have no rules at all, if we keep making things like marijuana legal.


Marijuana alters you're behavior and affects so many parts of your body. Read all about it here:
http://www.nida.nih.gov/infofacts/marijuana.html


Do we want our entire country doing this all the time? Is that the kind of people we are?

I, like Jill, believed the grown ups when they said drugs are bad. I'm glad I made that choice.

I don't care if the system is already set up for legalization. I don't care if it would give the government more money from the taxes charged on it or any other positive aspect. I think it's wrong to make that legal.

Podcast, Schmodcast!

Arrrrrgh!! (insert anrgy arms *Here*) I honestly do like the assignments we get in class. There so much better than junk you would have to do at University. But, unlike some people, I don't just throw-up creativity on demand. It's a skill I've yet to acquire.



I wish I had a super sweet idea, but at the moment everything I think of seems pretty lame. I was thinking of doing one called "confessions" sort of where I confess my mistakes and things I've done wrong. Particularily to the people I've wronged. But, meh?

OR MAYBE....i could get OTHER people, RANDOM people, to confess something they've done wrong, or a secret. Kinda like post secret...but in a podcast. Oh, I really like that, but how would I get people to do that? ARRRRGH>>>

I was raped.

This is going to take a while.....


Okay, for starters, everyone is entitled to their opinions, but those who have not been raped should choose their words more carefully when trying to explain how the raped might feel. BECAUSE THEY HAVE NOT BEEN RAPED!!!

The comments on several sites were simply announcing that rape vitcims WOULD NOT want to wear this t-shirt. Well, until you start your comment with "I was raped" your opinion is unrelated. You can imagine how it would make you feel all you want, but until you actually have been raped, you have no idea.



Sure, this t-shirt might just become a novelty thing and everyone will be wearing it. But that wouldn't be such a bad thing. If everyone wore it, it would be easier for those who have been raped to talk about it.

The post that guy made about girls asking for it by dressing provocatively just infuriated me. Most girls aren't slutting about in mini skirts asking for men to take advantage of them. (some are, but not all) Even so, women should be allowed to dress as they please. If women want to wear something provocative because it makes them feel good about themselves, then they have every right to do that without being treated unfairly. Surely, people will have less respect for them. But that doesn't mean they are a piece of meat that you can just have your way with. (I'm not saying men aren't raped too. But, let's face it, it more commonly happens to women.)

I think that a lot of people misunderstood the reasoning behind the t-shirt. It is not to get attention. It is not intended to stop rape in any way, shape or form. But when a person has finally come to terms with what happened to them, it's a final way of releasing those bad memories and getting over it. A rape victim should not feel ashamed. It's not their fault. The rapist should feel ashamed, they're the ones who have done wrong.


This is hard for me to write down. It just angers me so badly.

Tuition: $1,250.00 + $1,240.86 = $2490.86.

Books: $500

Rent: $565 x 12 = $6780.00

Food: $200.00 x 12 = $2,400.00

Gas: $160 x 12 = $1920.00

Entertainment: $150.00 x $1800.00

Total: $15,890.86


This makes me feel bad. Yet I feel blessed. My parents have this weird obsession with me. It's like they have to love me unconditionally. Creepy.


I don't think that it's a good idea to lift the tuition freeze. It's pricey enough to go to school. Although, I must say, it's not really the tuition that's burning the holes in our pockets. It's the cost of housing. I guess it doesn't matter though, they'll do what they want.

I'm Damned If I Don't....But It Doesn't Make A Damn If I Do

Although I am well-known for my insane competitiveness, I will never stoop so low as to unfairly advantage myself in sketchy ways. I hate cheaters. You can lie, you can steal (just don't tell me about it!!) but so help me god if you cheat.

I was reminded in class today of the one time in grade 11 history, when we had a substitute teacher during a test. History was by far my favourite subject. I don't know why, but I just kicked bottom at all the tests. I remember the first day, I sat right up front, like the dork I am, and the teacher asked me to move back with the rest of the class, so he could teach from there. ( No, I don't have a pocket protector!)

But one day, we had a substitute teacher for a test. Well, I figured out why he is a substitute, he left for a good 20 minutes during the test. Just up and left. Well, needless to say everyone started yapping out the answers and CHEATING!!!

Although I was poked and prodded by my fellow classmates, I refused to give out any or take any answers. I just ignored them. It bothered me that everyone cheated with no remorse. They were 16 or 17 years old, in grade 11, not grade 2, they should have known better.

Call me a snitch, but I told the teacher. I'm a little taddle-tale I guess. But I didn't think it was right. The teacher appreciated my honesty.

The next day, he confronted everyone in class about it. They all just sat there like dogs with their tales between their legs. The teacher had to pull everyone out of the classroom one by one and ask them questions.

I felt justified. I had done the right thing. They had it coming to them.


But.....(there's always a but...)


It didn't make a damn difference. The teacher didn't change anyones mark. He just let it slide. I was a little upset that I worked so hard for my good mark, (And I was honest about it!) and everyone else cheated and still got to keep their marks.

Those little punks. Does integrity count for nothing? I can't say that this has tainted me. If I were faced with the same situation today, I would do the exact same thing. I've just learned that I can't be discouraged by the laziness of others.


Moral of the story.....Winners never cheat.........But sometimes the cheaters win.

Crack Whores in Gorcery Stores

Well, it was 10% off Tuesday at one of my favorite grocery stores. (Plus it was customer appreciation day, so that was another 5% off. SCORE!!) The joint is filled with businesswomen in their suits and spring coats. I like to observe people. One lady is talking to a friend she ran into there about how they just adopted a new dog. (They named him Robbie.) There's a family of five with the cutest little toddler in the cart. (But as I got closer he had scratches all over his face....???...i dunno)

But one lady stuck out at me. She was middle-aged and dressed in all brown. You could see the top of what was probably a full back tattoo sticking out above the neck of her shirt. She would walk about the store and pick up items, just like everybody else. But she would just look at them long and hard. Not reading the nutritional information or anything, just staring very intently at it.

I move along and check items off my list as I put them into my cart. I stand in one aisle for a good five minutes as I repair the back of my cellphone that fell off when I dropped it.

When I'm done, I scan the checkout lines to see which one is the shortest. Number six only has one lady and she's just about rung through. Of course it's the tattoo lady. Her total came to $43.94. She told the cashier, she didn't want the rest of the items in her cart, because she didn't have enough money for them. I was taken aback, because I would never have the courage to say that to someone. But the cashier was polite and said "That's okay. We'll just put these over here."

The tattoo lady hands the cashier a gift card to the store. "So the difference is $34. 16."

"Oh. Didn't that have like $30 on it?"

"No, it had $9.78."

The lady seemed flustered and kept apologizing for nothing in particular. Eventually she gathered up enough bills and change in her purse to almost make up for it. But she was still $7.34 short.

I can't help but pity this poor lady. She seemed so down on her luck, but such a nice person. I kept thinking of how embarrassed she must be at that moment and it broke my heart. I told the cashier to just put the difference on my bill. It was only $7.34. Not a big deal.

The lady was probably even more embarrassed, but thanked me repeatedly for my generosity.

As she was pushing her cart away, the cashier said, "Oh, are these your keys?"

She smiled and came back for them. As she extended her arm to reach for them, her sleeve came up and I saw all the cuts and scratches on her arm. Along with sores from where needles have been continuously jabbed into her veins.

Needless to say, I tried to help someone out.....but perhaps I could have picked a better candidate.

Moral of the story..........Love thy neighbour as thy self....



Even if she has an addiction.

CBC Podcasts

Well, I found the podcasts that we listened to today in class very interesting. It's such a unique way of sharing your story with the rest of the world. When we can hear all the sound effects along with the story, it just makes it that much more believable. I think that these are excellent examples of what podcasts should be. (Not somebody ranting on for an hour about how their roommate ate their last pop tart.)

The first one, on residential schools really stuck with me because you could hear the emotion in the mother's voice as she re-told her story of rape and abuse. It really gave me an insight into what really went on in those schools. But I found it hard to understand why her daughter didn't accept her reason for not being the best mother. It seemed sufficient enough for me.

The second podcast about the lady being scammed was interesting in a different sense. It had a bit of comedic effect, but it also showed how the lady didn't like herself for lying to a stranger so easily. You learn something significant about these people from their podcasts whether they intended to reveal that fact or not.

All in all, they are interesting to listen to. They give you a look at a situation from someone else's point of view. An interesting approach to citizen journalism.

One Red Paperclip

So, I'm sure we've all heard about Kyle MacDonald and his one red paperclip blog. He took one red paperclip and throughout a series of trades, he managed to get a house. The media ate this up and milked it for everything it was worth. Kyle became instantly famous for one unique idea.



No one traded with him because they wanted the actual paperclip or any of the other random junk he obtained, but rather they wanted to be part of the story. Each trade was documented by Kyle, and he has sold the movie rights to the story. They didn't just trade junk for junk, they trade junk for a chance to go down in history with very little effort. Everyone wants their 15 minutes of fame. Especially the small town of Kipling, Saskatchewan. They bought a house to trade with Kyle in hopes of shining in the limelinght. They hoped it would put their town on the map and perhaps increase population. It sure did for 15 minutes. The internet has an amazing ability to make otherwise unknown people and places popular. But it only lasts so long.

I don't believe that Kipling is any more well-known now than they were before. And if they are, it's only because of the red paper clip. So did they really accomplish anything??

The Older You Get.....The Cheaper You Get

I guess it's kind of an old saying and we all know it's true. The more birthdays you see, the more frugal you tend to be. I always just thought of it as a saying. But I'm now realizing it's completely true. It could probably be scientifically proven.

I got a phone call from my grandmother. She's urkranian so we call her Baba and we call my grandfather Gido. Of course the only reason she ever calls is to tell me someone has died. I usually don't care because I've never met my poor, distantly related dead family member. This week it was Aunt Margret with the mouth to the side. Needless to say, I wasn't exactly crushed. After an hour and a half of Baba explaining how Aunt Margret is related to me, she finally gets to the point and annouces her and Gido will be in the city tomorrow and would like to take me out for supper.

So the next day we meet at our local Smity's restaurant. If your over sixty and single, that is the place to be at four o'clock on a Wednesday afternoon. We eat supper and converse about this and that. I hear the story of how Baba removed her Christmas carols from her hymn book and made a separate book. (It's just not necessary to carry those with you all year round, you know.) Well the book was bound on the wrong side and someone was very upset about it.

We get through supper and move on to dessert. I notice how every last piece of their food is completely cleaned of their plates. Never mind the fact that they are stuffed and ready to explode. Nothing goes to waste. The desserts that came with their meals are half-eaten and then boxed up because "someone will eat them later." Even the hard crust from my apple pie made it's way into the box. "Put it in here. There's nothing wrong with that." I'm forced to eat the last bite despite my protests.

I begin to realize how spoiled I am. My Baba and Gido grew up in a world where they were never sure where the next meal was coming from. I'm soo blessed to not have to worry about those sort of things. But never the less, I'm still embarrassed when Baba snatches my plate back from the waitress and throws the left over fries in the take-out box. "They'll just throw them out!" Hey, I guess Baba did pay for them.

Moral of the story: Waste not, want not...Someone will eat it....

So...This is the first post of what is to be many, many posts. I'm going to dedicate this entire blog to my parents. Mainly because everyday when I came home from school, they would ask, "What did you learn today?" And I never had a good answer. I would simply say "Nothing" or "Not much." Little did I know I was breaking their hearts slowly but surely. So this is to prove to them that even though I didn't realize it then, I'm realizing it now, I learn fascinating things everyday of the week. Even though they will never see this...because I'll never show it to them, I'm now making up for all those meaningless answers when questioned with "What did you learn today?"