Firecrotch, Sugarbush and Maple Fudge

Lately our group has felt like we don’t do too much here in Newmarket. So one day at work when I was compiling a spreadsheet of all the maple sugar festivals in Ontario, I came up with the idea that I should go to Wendy’s for lunch. I decided that making the nine minute walk for a Home-style Chicken strip combo was worth it so I left the office and walked through the forest which led to the fast food place known to me as heaven. While I was sitting there eating my upgraded combo sized fries, I came up with the idea that I should go to the convenience store for a pack of gum. Once I got to the store, I picked up my pack of Stride Gum and began to wait in line. It was there that I saw a bunch of cute beaver and moose key chains and then I had my epiphany. Why buy one pack of Stride gum for 1.19 when I could get five packs of excel gum for 4.49. I now have a lot of gum at my office along with Doritos, Mimi-eggs and Betty Crocker cupcake mix. Anyways upon returning to the office I got right back to work, which was to finish the list of maple syrup festivals in southern Ontario. Even though I was at work I couldn’t help but thinking about our groups’ dilemma of having nothing to do this, weekend. Near the end of the day my boss called me down to her office and we talked about my maple syrup festival spread sheet. We discussed how fun it would be to go and how it is the perfect way to spend a Saturday Afternoon. I think my boss is great. She always has so many great ideas and is someone who is super active and in tune with events happening in our community. I bid everyone at the office farewell and returned to the Katimavik house for a quiet evening of Loup-Garou and relaxing. Oh someone came up with a great idea to go to a Maple Sugar festival that weekend. It was really random. We went to the sugarbush, made a fire with this wilderness lady, Shoshana stood over the fire giving her the name firecrotch, and I bought some maple fudge which was way better anything Wendy’s could make…other than their baconator.

Katimavik and their Regional Offices

I really wanted to write a blog post about how the Regional Office of Ontario works within Katimavik, but since childhood I was raised with the rule "if you have nothing nice to say, say nothing at all...” so this blog post will be quite short. In Ontario we have 10 people working at regional trying to make my Katimavik experience a success. This does not include our PC, PSL or PL. Out of those ten people, never have I come in contact with any of them except for one lady who called me a girl through an email just because I like theatre. Katimavik needs to focus more on the quality of service to which they are trying to provide and less on quantity. Quantity usually outlasts quality because in the business world the bigger numbers or return in the quarterly report usually means that the funders are happy. But what is the point of this if a good chunk of your participants drop out of the program before third trimester starts. Katimavik is at a crossroads. Their funding has been severely cut by Heritage Canada and now they must decide where to make cuts. This is the perfect time for them to restructure. Downsize; get back to their grass roots--to help the participants grow through challenging youth service programs and helping Canadian youth "GET A LIFE".

A Nice YRT Bus Driver?

The York Region Transit system (and VIVA) is an organization which needs a lot of help. Not only are their buses inconsistent and almost always late but their drivers are more often than not just as sour. I have multiple stories where a driver has left me with a strong feeling in my stomach, a feeling that usually includes rage and disgust. My all time “favourite” bus story was the ride back from an evening Leigh-Amber, Jessica and I decided to spend in Toronto. It had been a fantastic night. The three of us had decided to go into Toronto after work to see Jersey Boys. It was an incredible show if anyone was interested and I would recommend it in a heartbeat. It was approximately 11:15 pm and we realize that our bus was supposed to leave in one minute. We quickly validated our tickets and entered the bus which was in the loading zone, open, with its sign lit up and the inside lights on. We were the only ones on the bus but about 20 seconds later the driver runs on cursing and screaming saying that we are not allowed getting on the bus while she was on break! She kicks us off, turns off her lights; drives to the other side of the parking lot, waits for a good five minutes and then returns to let us back on and start her route five minutes late (go figures). She was at fault because she failed to lock her bus and put up the “Not in Service” sign in the window, which all the other drivers had done. After all the three are not from Toronto and know very little about the whole system. If she had just stated that facts instead of being a wretched lady, I would not have had the slightest problem with her.

Anyways the roles were reversed the other day on my way to work. I was late getting to the bus and the bus was on time. I had to watch in agony as it passed me from across the street. I was fully expecting to be late for work and I began to wait for the next bus which came in 35 minutes. Miraculously the 54 Bayview returned two minutes later and I was able to get on. Supposedly the driver remembered me and saw me from across the street so she went around the block to pick me up. Her nice gesture seemed somewhat odd to me because I was on a York Region Transit bus, but nevertheless I was grateful for her good deed. It was unfortunately short lived. The transfer I half to take with six other people also was on time that day, and because the driver returned for me we missed our transfer. The world is a cruel, cruel place where the nicest intentions can turn out to be futile. When you try to be nice to one person, you might get another six people who become furious with your actions.

My Doors are Always Open

I am well into the billeting cycle of the Newmarket rotation and this trimester I got placed with a family of four, two of which are teenage girls. Now I don’t mind in the slightest that I have to once again share a bathroom with girls, but after having to live with six “young ladies” in the Katima-house it would have been nice to get a house which was a bit quieter. I want to be clear that I am not complaining, I am just stating my feelings. My billet family is great so I don’t have anything to complain about, which is odd seeing that whining is one of my natural gifts. I am now closer to Toronto than I was before; in fact my new family lives in a beautiful old house right off of Yonge Street in Richmond Hill.

One thing I have realized about all old houses in general is that because of the passing of time, the wood expands or something to that fact and most of the doors don’t close anymore. This stands true for both my work and billet house. At the house neither my bedroom nor bathroom doors close so I am forced to wedge a sock between the door and the frame in a hope that it will hold shut while I am changing, showering or going to the washroom. At work I am on the third floor of this historic house built in 1922 by the Sheppard family, so basically where the servants use to live, and although I like the office I am in, it is right at the top of the stairs so everyone going by seems to distract me from my work. The other thing I don’t like about not being able to close my door is that I am also forced to be sneaky when I want to check my facebook at work!

Anyways in a roundabout way of saying something, I am having a good time here North of Toronto, whether it is in Richmond Hill, Aurora or Newmarket but I do dearly miss everyone so do not be hesitate to email, facebook, text (as soon as I get a phone that works) or post a comment on my blog wall (hint hint) because my doors will always be open whether it is figurative or literal, like my present day situations.

Home Again :)

It is 11 52am right now and I am on lunch at Windfall. All morning as I have been working on my spread sheets and contact list for Judy but my mind keeps slipping back to London. I left 128 days ago and although I am not even half way done Katimavik, I am extremely excited to see my friends and family! Just to be able to spend one weekend with everyone and to see how things have changed over the four months, that in itself will make my trip home worth while. I remember when I first saw that I was going to be posted in Newmarket I was annoyed and not too happy about it because it meant that I was not going to be "away" for the full nine months. I realize now that without this reprise from the program I would have gone crazy. I am trying to see as many people as possible this weekend but if you don't get a chance to catch up with me, do not worry because come summertime I will back and I can spend more than a weekend in the place I call home.

Lost in Suburbia

Newmarket is a town of 90 000 people. Coming from London, which is closer to 400 000 people, I did not think I would find it terribly difficult to find my way around this place. I even snickered (my word of the day) at the other members of my group who were scared of moving to the "big city". Then again I guess when you come from St. Louis de Kent, which is in the middle of nowhere and doesn't even have a McDonalds, moving to Newmarket is a big deal. I however found getting around Newmarket to be extremely difficult! Who knew that the buses don't run every half and hour. The 54 Bayview, for example, only runs every 43 minutes! I found this out the hard way. When I missed my bus for work, I thought I would just catch the next one. After 40 minutes I asked a the gentlemen if he knew when it came. He told me that it was only a rush hour bus service so I crossed the street to catch another route to work. I missed that bus (the driver even saw me) and then I got to watch the Bayview bus drive by me because I was on the other side of the street! That gentleman who gave me the so ever helpful advice did manage to get on the bus that was supposedly only a rush hour service. It took me 2 hours and 41 minutes to finally get to work. After missing the Bayview for the second time, my bus troubles had barely begun. That subject is still touchy for me so I will leave the rest of that story to your imaginations.

Another problem I have here is getting to our gym. In the four times that I have gone, twice has it ended in utter confusion. Last night on my way home from the gym, Tom and I ended up taking a scenic root that brought us back to Fit City twice. Feeling deflated I was forced to buy a whole pizza at Little Ceasers and pack on all the calories I lost and the gym and then some. A walk that is suppose to take 20 minutes took us well over an hour. Newmarket is urban sprawl at its finest. You can virtually get nowhere by foot. You are either in a subdivision or in a shopping center. Being a commuter city its streets are congested between 820am and 920am and then between 430pm and 600pm. It is virtually dead the rest of the time. Being the incredible individual that I am, it is my goal that by the time this trimester is finished, I will have figured out a system that does not involve me getting lost and confused every few days.

A Week in Hell (....or close to it)

It has taken me one week to get over the ordeal that was house management! I was forced into being house manager with this really annoying girl whose name shall be, for the purpose of this post, Anahsohs. (I can't have Shoshana find out I am talking crap about her in my blog!) Well anyways being house manager with her was so bad because Anahsohs made me wash and dry the dishes so many times during the week that I needed both hands to count all the times that I was forced to do them. On top of it all we had discussed, before our week started, that she would wash the washrooms all three times during our week but nevertheless I found myself having to do it ONCE! It was an outrage. I still can't get the smell of Clorox out of my skin. Does she not even care for my well being? Anyways I got some relief in the arrival of my friends but even then I was forced into a matching outfit with her which consisted of Salmon (not pink) tights and a nineties Jean shirt (the horror I know!). I have lived through her cruel and unusual punishments before but the embarrassment I encountered with my friends will take a lifetime to get over! If she just once thought about someone other than herself, maybe she would see what kind of horrible wench she is! I finished my week of house management with only my dignity lost, but never again will I put myself in a position where I can be so horribly abused. Anahsohs, shame on you for being so terrible.



My insanely buff legs!....yes I wore these tights out in public! I didn't have a choice



Anahsohs, and the magazine she used to beat me!



Earl, a potato that looks like a shark or dinosaur! (I swear I didn't mean to peel him that way)