To the Island and back again

It was a typical evening drive in Saanich when the old mix CD turned to its next track: Shakira's "Underneath Your Clothes".

"Yes!" I exclaimed, thrusting my fist in the air and getting ready to ballad about endless stories and territories.

It was then that I realized that not everyone shares my love of old Shakira. I looked sheepishly to my friend Dee, who thankfully looked as enthusiastic as me.

"Wait!" she exclaims. "Before we go all out..." she closes the car windows.

"You mean we can sing out loud to circa 2000 Britney Spears without shame, but not Shakira?" I asked incredulously.

"Don't look at me like that," sighed Dee. "Shakira is amazing. But a window-closer."

As usual, Dee was right. I quickly remembered the time last week when I pulled up to a stoplight belting Alanis Morrisette at full tilt only to discover that the car next to me also had its window open. Dammit, why weren't they like the 99% of cars in town smart enough to roll up their windows and let the AC work its magic in this dry and dusty desert?

The problem with not posting as regularly as I'd like means that there are too many things to write about. It seems too long past to write in detail about my last few days at the TV internship (I think blog years is like dog years... so even a week suddenly becomes almost 2 months. Right?).

I celebrated the end of internship #3-- and the August long weekend-- by visiting Dee, one of my very best friends from high school, out on Vancouver Island. Gloria and Friso came along for the adventures as well, and we had a brilliant weekend of wandering the downtown, enjoying the patio weather, riverfloating and hiking and trail running and movie nighting and eating and visiting and all sorts of other good things. And I think we ended up stopping in every small town between Victoria and Nanaimo in the process. I even managed to interview an artist for my MRP at a farmhouse out in Duncan and was able to justify a bit of art gallery-ing in the name of "schoolwork". Happy sigh.

As I sat on the ferry deck on the way back to the mainland, I had no doubt in my mind that this time back home was exactly what I needed this summer. In the last four months I have moved thrice and tried my hand at three very different types of jobs in my field-- which has been both exciting and at times overwhelming-- but the chance to hang out with old friends and live in, rather than just visit, the place I call home has made all of the difference.

I'll end this before it gets any sappier.

Yes, another list. Deal.

Signs you're back in your small hometown... all which have happened to me in the past week:

1. Every third interview you do with the TV station knows your mom. (I'll leave the reason why to your imagination...)

2. You go to cover a 6 car accident and find yourself chatting with one of the drivers-- you played softball with her daughter.

3. You hop into the bank ATM line-up and see your mom at the machine in front of you. When you say hi, you realize your sister's in line at the teller.

4. You go see the annual Shakespeare play in the park and recognize both Hamlet and Ophelia from your grad class.

5. While sitting on the patio at BP downtown, one of your old high school teachers walks by... with one of your classmates on his arm. And her belly is starting to show.

Why I will never pee in the Amazon

This week’s assignment: researching for a quiz for the Backpacker Battle show this weekend.

Pete, one of the show’s producers, tells me to start with freaky animal and/or world travel facts.

“You know, like, the Amazonian pee fish,” he says in his British accent.

“The what?”

“Google it, you’ll figure it out.”

Hoo boy.

Note: once you’ve been traumatized by the description of the candiru’s feeding habits, you have to read this. It’s one of the funniest things I’ve seen in a while…

First show: Meg and Sheila, BFF

Week one’s theme: The Awkward Show. Almost too apt for our intrepid intern.

The concept is a bit much to explain in a blog, but revolves around a previous show of GO where a singer from Hamilton, Tiny Bill Cody, wrote a song about Sheila Copps called “Sheila Dreams of the Water”—that is quite awesome, albeit with some questionable lines. This time, Sheila confronts Tiny Bill about his song… hence the awkward bit.

Of course, Sheila has to be kept from the audience during the first half of the show, so who is in charge of keeping the former Deputy PM company? That’s right, yours truly.

I can say quite fairly that I’m generally a pretty big fan of Sheila. As a young woman (well, according to my grandfather at least) with an interest in politics, I think it’s natural to take an interest in strong female politicians and Sheila’s longstanding political career is one of many reasons to admire her.

So, of course I can’t help myself as I hand her a glass of water:

“Wow, this is a bit of a flashback”

Sheila looks confused. “Oh really?” she asks politely.

“Yeah, well I used to be a Page—“

“Oh, in the legislature?”

“No… no, in the House of Commons… in 2004.”

“Oh really?”

Cue 45 minute private conversation with Sheila about politics—from university funding to female representation on Parliament Hill (from sculptures to the House)—and a variety of topics in between.

It was when she entered the radio studio and related many of Brent’s questions to feminism that I realized I may have primed her a bit for where she would direct the show.

When she used the word misogynist, I was fairly certain I had.

One more point for the feminists. Now if only I can get the next guest to talk about vaginas…

Also notable: Sheila and Tiny Bill Cody’s duet of reconciliation: Funky Disclaimer. You can also listen to the episode here.