No time

I just found this song by the Arkells. Love it!

They're sitting up in the board room
and you see it like a fly on the wall.
You can hear the man in the suit say
we don't have time to stall

We got deadlines to meet.
Oh we got deadlines to meet.

'Cause time equals money and money's alright
so I'll be working past nine
and those fucking Europeans who vacation from September
they ain't in the right mind

We got deadlines to meet.
Oh we got deadlines to meet.

We need a fire
'cause fire fire
is something we love
We need the time to try try
'cause it's never enough.

We got deadlines to meet.
We got deadlines to meet.
Oh oh
We got deadlines to meet.
We got deadlines to meet.

Falling for New Brunswick

I've fallen a bit behind on the blogging, but I have a pretty good excuse.
This fall, I've befriended a local, and we've been busy drinking in this province's beauty.

But at the Telegraph, I've been writing like a mad woman, and I never have enough time to get it all done. I think that's a good sign, when I have a million ideas and seemingly enough stories to last forever.

Also, when I sit down to write a story, I still enjoy it. I relish it even. I used to wonder if I would ever get sick of writing, but so far, that's not the case.

This past week was pretty fun. I covered city council on Tuesday night - where at least 100 tradesmen showed up to protest out-of-province workers who were brought into work on a liquefied natural gas plant. There was a random crash where a driver hopped out of the truck and stashed something in the long grass before being taken to hospital. I wrote about a grassroots housing program for teens in Saint John's troubled north end. And last week, I covered a heated community meeting - which to me was like a treasure-trove of future story ideas.

The best thing about the last few weeks is I am feeling more a part of this community. I'm understanding it, I'm seeing it, and getting out and talking to everyday people. It's the greatest feeling to wrap your head around a local issue that really matters to people, and do your best to share that story. Makes me feel like I'm not just some outsider here to get clippings and collect a paycheque. Saint John and the natural hidden gems and neighbourhoods here mean something to me. And probably when that happens, you can do your job as a reporter just a little bit better.

Job News

Well, I've been keeping this under my hat for awhile, but I'm sick of keeping it a secret, and it's getting close to the end of my contract - one more day - so here it is...

I'm staying in Saint John! I got a real, live, full-time job at the Telegraph-Journal.

It almost seems too good to be true, but I just signed on the dotted line Tuesday, so at least for now, it's true. Keep your fingers crossed for me. We all know how shaky the news biz is these days, full-time job or not.

I'm pretty excited to be staying here. I've met some amazing people, and the newsroom is full of funny, talented, interested, quirky characters. Saint John is a place where I feel at home. It's a small city, yet big enough to have lots of interesting things going on. The newspaper has given me lots of great opportunities to write, and I think I could grow a lot here.

It's quite a feeling to know I will be staying somewhere indefinitely. For my whole life, my homes have had either an expiry date or a question mark at the end. Now, I can finally set up shop and ride the wave.

It's been a long road. I'm 26 years old, and I took a four-year undergrad degree, worked as the editor of my school paper for a year, took a year master's program, worked for another 1.5 years, and now I'm here. Nobody ever said getting a full-time job at a newspaper (or any news organization) was easy, but I'm living proof. You can't slip into a real job after a BA, that's for sure. If you do, you're damn lucky - or talented.

I probably have just the right mix of luck and talent. Things were scary for a while there... especially in February, when I got a lay-off notice from the Record. I thought that could possibly be the end of my journalism career. But instead of giving up hope, I got stubborn and applied everywhere. That took me to Yellowknife, and eventually here. Where the luck comes in, is who knew I could have ended up at the right place - the place that makes me as happy as New Brunswick does, and the place where real, live, full-time jobs are available (or at least one).

So here we are. I'm in one of those lovely, light moments where the sun's rays are shining on me. It's the "swim" part of this blog name. Hopefully the sinking part is over. Probably not, but at least for now.

Explore

The last few weeks, I have had the chance to check out some areas beyond Saint John.

I saw the village of St. Martins, where fishing boats lay on the muddy seabed, waiting for the tide to roll in.

I took a car ferry, crossing the Kennebecasis River to the Kingston Peninsula, where I hung out with my cousin's wife's family. Guitars were played, beers were drunk, songs sung.

I bought expensive organic greens from the Kingston farmer's market. I saw the Saint John MP's communications assistant. I see her everywhere.

I went to tiny Deer Island, where I spoke to a family whose beloved cove is being filled in with rocks in the name of progress.

It has hit me I might not have much more time here, and that saddens me. It's been about three months, and the place is starting to feel like home.

The fog rolls in like a blanket in the evening, tucking me in, and I fall asleep.

Where to next?

Well I'm just past the halfway point of my summer internship at the Telegraph-Journal, and I've sent off my fat application to the Toronto Star (this is probably the 10th package I've ever sent them). I have hopes of getting some sort of job offer at the T-J, but I definitely can't count on it.

So tonight I was perusing Jeff Gaulin and starting thinking about where I'll end up next. There is a handful of journalism jobs all across the country, and hardly any in Ontario. One pleasant surprise is the Woolwich Observer is hiring a full-time reporter/photographer, which would take me back to Waterloo Region. It sure would be nice to have a real, full-time job, too.

It's funny, because the whole time I've been away from "home" - about three months now - I've been thinking about when I will get to go back for good. Now I'm thinking if I went back, I would miss the adventure and independence of being far away.

Also, the whole daily/weekly debate pops back in my head. Are dailies as superior as we've been taught to believe? There's no doubt you can get amazing experience and write great stories at a smaller paper, but would I always wish I was somewhere else? It's what tugged me away from the North. I was worried if I didn't take the internship at the T-J, I would miss my chance of staying in the tight business of Canadian dailies.

But is it really that much better? The pay certainly isn't, not now anyway. And the job security certainly isn't. The hours are just as long.

Truth be told, I'm worried wherever I end up next, I'll wish I was somewhere else.