Drifting to Prince George

It was a regular Tuesday morning. I had woken up at 7:15 am per usual so I could get into the shower first and use most of the hot water. I was anticipating a boring day at the district office seeing that my boss, Sarah, had told me that they needed help from the three arena volunteers to fold five thousand copies of the Vanderhoof Updater. However when Jessica, Thony and I arrived at the offices, we were told that parts of the Updater had not been approved by council so it could not be sent to print. I was slightly cheesed off by that because Sarah had promised us three dozen donuts from Woody’s bakery, which would have been shared between the four of us, and these donuts are to die for. This also meant that we had no set structure for the day. Sarah was forced to think of something for us to do, and she came up with the brilliant idea of going Christmas shopping in Prince George for our Christmas Party/ Picture with Santa event which is being put on at the arena.
I was all for this idea because there are only a few stores in Vanderhoof and I have not been to a mall since I started Katimavik. It was a beautiful day and the road conditions were not bad at all. We were having quite a pleasant drive when I experienced one of the scariest moments in my life. We came up behind this red ford with a trailer on the back which was only going 70 km/h so Sarah decided to pass the truck. As she accelerated her four wheel drive cut out and the entire back end swung out and hit the car that we were passing. Sarah tried to pull away but her car then stalled and we started drifting on black ice. We completely spun around and the proceeded to once again hit the car but this time on the side. If we had not smacked into that car for a second time we would have continued gliding. That is a scary thought for me because the ditch to the one side of us was more than a 20 foot drop.
I am just thankful that everyone is okay. The severity of the crash could have way worse and it helped that the people in the other car were calm and collected. Sarah’s car had to get towed because there was a horrible clicking noise when she tried to drive it again, maybe the axels, and we did not think it was safe to drive. It sure was an eventful day and an experience that really made me grateful for the life that I have.

The Case of the Disappearing Photographs

A huge part of the Katimavik program in my mind is to take as many pictures as possible and then have some of them put up on facebook for all of my friends and family to see. I was following these 'rules' quite faithfully along with most of the other people in my group, even to the point when tagging people in photos became a daily ritual, when I started noticing that I would get fewer and fewer pictures every time I uploaded them to my computer. I could have sworn that I had taken dozens of pictures that particular day but unfortunately only twenty or so pictures would upload. When it happened for the first time I thought I could have accidently erased them, but when it happened a second, third and fourth time I started to become suspicious that someone was erasing my photos for a reason I could not comprehend.

I began to keep my camera with me everywhere I went and when I wasn’t using it I hid it in my room so the ‘picture thief’ could not have his or her chance to erase my photos. Today tragedy struck again. I was volunteering at a radio auction today (totally cool btw) with my friend Shoshana, when I got the idea to have a photo shoot about our day at the auction. I was taking an epic photo of Shoshana showcasing the display board, in a funky Vanna White style, when my camera self destructed in my hand! All of the photos which I had taken from that previous week had vanished into thin air. My own camera was the enemy which I was trying to find. In light of these new developments I am now forced to upload my pictures as frequently as possible living in constant fear that they could disappear at any moment. A horrible reality is what I am now living and if my parents are reading this, potentially a new camera would be a nice idea for that special holiday which is quickly approaching.

The Zamboni and the Arena

Some people have asked me to put up pictures of me on the Zamboni. Their wish is my command so I finally got around to taking a picture while I was driving the big blue machine named Sally. I am not sure if that name is going to stick but I can tell you that Steve (a suggested name) or for that fact any other guys name is out of the question because some of the guys had a problem with those names saying that they did not want to continuously have to "ride a man" day after day. Everyone at the arena is looking for input so if you have an idea for the name let us know.

(The Gate that Separates the Zamboni and the Ice!!!)

(Smiling and Driving at the Same Time)

House Prisoners

I must start off my blog by saying that I had been looking forward to the week that has just pasted, since the beginning of time (or since I moved to Vanderhoof). This week I got to be a house manager with Andréanne. This meant that we got a week off work and we got to cook the food that we wanted to and keep the house spotlessly clean. Our menu was set; we had planned extraordinary meals which ranged from Spanakopitas, Salmon with baked fries to Steak Kebabs. We were just getting ready for a relaxing week where we would be able to lounge around the house doing what we please when reality set in! I for one did not know that dehydrating Spinach would take over an hour and a half, squeezing by hand, to get every single last drop of water out of them, that perogies would take over five hours of hard labour to produce, or that the fried onions and green peppers on the kebabs were perfectly sized for a funny (but annoying) food fight at the dinner table. Andréanne and I worked extremely well together, we are "the babies" of the group seeing that we are both still seventeen, but we are still the best damn cooks the katimahouse will ever see! We had to be innovative in what we chose to make, people get bored if they eat the same things over and over again, but we bit off a fair amount (when it comes to cooking) and were left chewing (cooking) for hours on end.
Before Katimavik I had minimal experience in the kitchen, seeing that my mom was always a great cook and fed me whatever I desired. Cooking and cleaning is much more difficult that I thought, especially here in the katimahouse. Whenever we would clean something up, a new mess would magically appear somewhere else, and putting things away seemed to become more of a nuisance for some people. It was like we were cleaning up space for people to mess up. My mentality by the end of the week was to throw a bunch of noodles in a pot, feed it to the wolves and stick a citrus scented febreeze in the washroom. Don't get me wrong, all of my roommates here are fantastic, but all I am saying is that little help with the dishes after supper would always be appreciated. All of my mom’s grumbling about cleaning up after yourself suddenly makes sense to me, and I am legitimately going to make an effort to keep my things in order and out of the way, well most of the time....I have to torture the next house managers just a little bit.

TOGA TOGA TOGA

We had a toga night this past week and I though sharing these pictures would be useful in showing everyone what Katimavik is all about!

A Month Gone By in the Life of a Katima-Victim

It is incredible to imagine that it has been over a month since I travelled to BC and left my many friends and family back in Ontario. Although Katimavik has been such a unique and incredible experience to date, I cannot deny the fact that I miss everyone terribly in London. Going on Katimavik would not have been nearly as hard if I did not get the privilege to work with some of the most talented people in the city this past summer. I got to spend time with fun, caring and charismatic theatre kids when I took part in my fourth and last High School Project Grease at the Grand Theatre.
Never in my life did I feel so motivated, included and most importantly happy. Everybody in the cast and crew brought something special our group and added to our chemistry on and off stage. The eleven week process went by way too quickly and I wish I could have stayed in that utopia forever. The Grand Theatre was like a second home to me, a sort a refuge where I could become myself and always feel welcome. The Grand Theatre will forever be a part of who I am.
I left London three days after our show ended and although many thought it was too soon, I left on a high point and felt ready to take on an entirely new challenge. I do not want to sound cheesy but Katimavik is like a roller coaster, there are so many emotions swirling around the house and the atmosphere can change in an instant. Katimavik is helping me grow as a team member and as an individual. I love that Katimavik is showing me how I can include my musical talents in my daily life, from performing at my local church and the Cozy Corner to starting a Glee Club at the seniors facility. Theatre is a huge part of my life but I have been unsure of whether to pursue it later in life. Hopefully I can gain a better perspective through Katimavik. I am in a good place right now, surrounded by great people (even if they are not theatre people) and my positive outlook on life is only growing here in Northern BC. Leaving London has made me realize how sweet a life was, from my friends at school, work and of course the theatre. My life almost feels surreal to me right now and I have never been so excited to just live.

To trick and not to treat

Halloween at the Katima-house was crazy. Vanderhoof puts on a special event for Halloween called the Pumpkin walk and we were summoned to volunteer for the event. It is a community event where local businesses set up booths to give away candy while people walk through the forest which is lined with over 500pumpkins. Our job was to collect, (thanks Jazmin and L.A), place and then light all of the pumpkins. It would have been an enjoyable experience except that as soon as we began moving the pumpkins a huge wind/ rain storm came out of nowhere and made us all miserable. The storm passed quickly enough and by the time we began lighting the pumpkins our spirits had been lifted slightly, only to be squashed by cold wins and cruddy lighters.
In an attempt to turn the tone of the house around some of the group, which turned into many of us, which turned into everyone except Tom decided to dress up and go trick or treating. I had gotten into my costume (pink pyjamas and a purple shower cap) and retrieved my pillow case super early and was therefore forced to wait for everyone else. For some odd reason I came up with the brilliant idea to hide under the big rubber dingy sitting in our living room (I will explain why we have one at a later date), and to scare everyone when they came into the room. It seemed like a great idea at the time and I waited in much anticipation for my trick. After I waited for minutes I started to get slightly annoyed but I continued to wait, and wait and wait. I could finally wait no longer and I decided to come out of my boat to see where everyone was at and I found that everyone had already left for Trick or Treating (minus Tom) without me.
I was quite disappointed but I went with Tom to the pumpkin walk, found the rest of the candy loaded group and watched the fabulous firework display, which was provided by the district. I cannot say that freezing my buns off lighting pumpkins and getting completely forgotten about can make for the best Halloween ever but it was sure one to remember.