About: Me
I’m very mysterious. Mysterious like an open book. A suspense novel. In extra large print. That you can read across the room.
Hi. Your loyal blogger here, also known as Ms. Jackie S. Quire. I’m just a small-town girl, livin’ in a lonely world. Living and writing in a time of transition; after two years in the Eastern Canadian Arctic, I’m setting my sights and compass southwards. In hopes of finding “home.”
After a heart wrenching breakup with my MotherCorp, three months off and ten thousand kilometers on the severance-cheque-mobile I was rehired out west. From coast to coast to coast I’m hoping this one will stick.
I’m a nerd with her heart sharpie-markered on her sleeve. I don’t hide my thoughts, facial expressions or beliefs well. And it seems everyone else has me all figured out, though I’ve just started. I love the colour green, my dad’s home cookin’ and pinot grigio. I live for my family, my friends, my dog and my relationships.
I love long and hard and learn slowly, it seems.
And I’m continuing my pursuit of happiness. Yes. With an “i”
Serendipity Now 
August 24, 2009 at 12:43 PM |
Jackie,
I have been a lurker on your blog for a while. I love your writing and your take on things. Your last blog post sent shivers. The similarities in our paths are uncanny.
I, too, worked at CBC Radio in Yellowknife. Once I started there, I thought I had “made it”. But life in the north was not for me and I left after 1.5 years for CBC Regina. I arrived just before the 2001 strike, where, when it started, the station manager brought me and a few other newbies into his office. He started pointing at people and saying “you’re okay”, “your hours might be cut”, and then he turned to me and said “you’re out of luck.” I flew home to Halifax a week later, and did not emerge from my parent’s basement for six months.
I put on my big girl panties and went to Edmonton for another crack at CBC that lasted another 1.5 years. The whole time there, I was a reporter, a producer, on the assignment desk and a casual. I also had the nagging feeling that journalism was not my scene. But I had a journalism degree, I argued with myself. I went to King’s! Another bout of disillusion sent me back home and back to the drawing board.
I moved back to Yellowknife (because northern living had not killed my spirit yet) to work at First Air – or what I call my “palate-cleansing era”.
Blah, blah, blah. I got back to writing… in Communications. I went to BC for the Public Affairs Bureau and found out the big reasons why I was hired there was because the Director of PAB loves CBC people.
Now, I’m with PAB in Alberta. My journalism degree hangs with pride in my study and I am infinitely happier in communications than I ever was as a reporter.
My advice (unsolicited as it may be): savour your sour grapes. You went through your own personal hell and life has dealt you a tough hand to play. Resent those with jobs and a new house and babies. Your life will re-assemble itself when it’s ready. Until then, watch the signs of your comeback. Because, darling, it’s coming in a big way.
August 26, 2009 at 3:27 PM |
Sally,
Sorry it took me so long to respond. I was incredibly flattered – and somewhat taken aback – by your kind words. I was, as strange as it might sound, speechless. Not to mention, I was a bit ashamed of my ‘sour grapes’ post. While a lot of it true, it feels petty when I look back on it.
All the same, it’s nice to know that doubt is okay, and there’s a light at the end of this long tunnel… and that going ‘back home’ isn’t as shameful as it seems at times.
Thanks so much š