waiting for my husband to get home

1. What’s your favorite candle scent?
I actually really hate scented candles. They're abominable most of the time. There's one company that makes ones that are okay, but still not awesome. My favourite heated fragrance, if you will, is a tinfoil vessel containing a teaspoon of vanilla extract, resting over the vent of a hot oven. It makes the whole house smell seriously yummy.



2. What female celebrity do you wish was your sister?
I'm not sure. I'm not very well versed with celebrities and my own sisters are such incredible people that I doubt very much anyone else out there could match them in terms of being good choices for sisters for me.


3. What male celebrity do you wish was your brother?
I think the same goes here. The brothers who have married into my family are such incredible people that no celebrity could hope to match them.


4. How old do you think you’ll be when you get married?
I never thought I'd actually get married. It happened when I was 28. 



5. Do you know a hoarder?
Not really, although we discovered a lot of interesting things when my grandparents moved from their small town house into the city.


6. Can you do a split?
I can split all kinds of things. But if you're asking if I can do The Splits, the answer is probably not anymore.


7. How old were you when you learned how to ride a bike?
I want to say I was in grade 1 but I"m not sure.


8. How many oceans have you swam in?
Pacific, Atlantic, and I'm related to a brave soul (my Dad) who once took a dip in the Arctic ocean, for fun.


9. How many countries have you been to?
Canada, U.S., Mexico, Germany, Austria, Netherlands, England, Singapore, Thailand, Vietnam, Cambodia, Lao, Australia, New Zealand, Cayman Islands, Cook Islands. I'll leave the counting up to you.


10. Is anyone in your family in the army?
I don't think so...


11. What would you name your daughter if you had one?
12. What would you name your son if you had one?
Oh holy crap shut up about the names already!!! I know the baby's due in 11 days only but I swear we haven't actually picked out any names yet!



13. What’s the worst grade you got on a test?
I'm pretty sure I got zeroes on the tests I didn't show up for in Biblical Hebrew.


14. What was your favorite TV show when you were a child?
National Geographic Explorer


15. What did you dress up as on Halloween when you were eight?
I have absofuckinglutely no clue. 


16. Have you read any of the Harry Potter, Hunger Games or Twilight series?
Harry Potter.


17. Would you rather have an American accent or a British accent?
I'm Canadian so I have the best of both worlds.


18. Did your mother go to college?
Yes. She started off going to University, then something like 30 or so years later she took a couple classes at college and followed that up with a Masters degree at University.


19. Are your grandparents still married?
Yes, although one set of grandparents have passed on, and my other grandfather killed himself before I was born.... but technically they're all still married.



20. Have you ever taken karate lessons?
No. I pretty much stuck to dance lessons. I tried voice lessons and gymnastics... and went back to dance lessons.


21. Do you know who Kermit the frog is?
Does anyone North American not know who Kermit the Frog is?


22. What’s the first amusement park you’ve been to?
Fantasyland. Except it's not called that anymore...

23. What language, besides your native language, would you like to be fluent in?
Spanish would be particularly useful. My Dad told me it would be back when, when it wasn't an option to study, but I don't think he figured it would be useful for communicating with the Mexican side of the family, he probably had something else in mind.

24. Do you spell the color as grey or gray?
One is a type of nun, the other is a colour. I can never keep straight in my head which is which.


25. Is your father bald?
No. 

26. Do you know triplets?
No, just twins.

27. Do you prefer Titanic or The Notebook?
I don't know anything about The Notebook and The Titanic was rather dreary.


28. Have you ever had Indian food?
I have had it, made it, loved it...

29. What’s the name of your favorite restaurant?
I don't think I have a favourite. 


30. Have you ever been to Olive Garden?
Yes. Breadsticks. Mmmmm....

31. Do you belong to any warehouse stores (Costco, BJ’s, etc.)?
I don't belong to anything or anyone.

32. What would your parents have named you if you were the opposite gender?
I'm actually not sure. Probably Ray.

33. If you have a nickname, what is it?
I tend not to acquire nicknames.

34. Who’s your favorite person in the world?
My husband.

35. Would you rather live in a rural area or in the suburbs?
Rural. Trying to get anywhere in the suburbs is a horrid, car-centric experience. At least in a rural area there's nowhere to go or you're far enough away to justify driving everywhere.

36. Can you whistle?
Yes.

37. Do you sleep with a nightlight?
No.

38. Do you eat breakfast every morning?
Just about. I function really poorly without food.

39. Do you take any pills or medication daily?
Prenatal vitamin

40. What medical conditions do you have?
Endometriosis

41. How many times have you been to the hospital?
Like for serious illness? Or to visit people? For my own care and treatment I've been, I think..... when I was born, shortly thereafter, then not again until I was in Lao (that was special), then 3 times in the past 3 years, twice for surgery and once last Christmas for an unidentified infection that I thought was going to kill me. Next trip will be for the birth of my baby.


42. Have you ever seen Finding Nemo?
Yes.

43. Where do you buy your jeans?
Annex used to have good jeans. But I also have a stellar pair of maternity jeans too...


44. What’s the last compliment you got?
Mum complimented me several times on my cooking skills.

45. Do you usually remember your dreams in the morning?
Depends on how creepy they were.

46. What flavor tea do you enjoy?
I generally don't like flavoured teas. 

47. How many pairs of shoes do you currently own?
Too many to remember off the top of my head. They're spread across two fairly big totes, put away for winter.


48. What religion will you raise your children to practice?
Freedom of choice and general libertarianism.

49. How old were you when you found out that Santa wasn’t real?
I don't remember.

50. Why do you have a tumblr?
I don't, but a good friend of mine does.....

crazy

I have done exactly 3 crazy things in my life. If you know me you will probably argue that the list is considerably longer; I would argue that those things don't fit the definition of crazy at all.

In chronological order:

1. Russell and I bought a house together in Saskatoon, a city neither of us knew much about.

2. Russell and I got married. I have a physical attraction to exactly one man - my husband. Otherwise, I'm a ladies' lady.

3. We decided to have a child, and against all odds, have been successful in making one. We're due in early January.

I know there are people out there reading this - google gives me the omnipotence of blog statistics - so here's a question for you: What are the 3 craziest things you've ever done? Please comment, I'd love to hear from you!

suicide prevention week

September 9th - 15th is suicide prevention week. Reblog if you’re always willing to talk with your followers if they ever need anyone. <3 a="a" nbsp="nbsp">

 You can totally talk to me. Email me. Phone me if you can track down my number. 

Bee Es (or why I am extremely leery of letting my child attend public school)

The following post is taken from a blog belonging to a very good friend of mine. 

It explains very clearly one of many reasons why the thought of putting my child through public school makes me angry. I had to suffer through this Bee Es growing up, although I'm relatively certain it wasn't my parents perpetuating it.

The comment at the end is every bit as important too - this isn't just about little girls learning that violence is a show of affection. It's about teaching little boys that violence is *not* a show of affection. And that it goes both ways - girls can be equally awful.

Name calling and violent behavior is NOT EVER an acceptable method of showing affection.

Here's the post:

“I am sure every girl can recall, at least once as a child, coming home and telling their parents, uncle, aunt or grandparent about a boy who had pulled her hair, hit her, teased her, pushed her or committed some other playground crime. I will bet money that most of those, if not all, will tell you that they were told “Oh, that just means he likes you”. I never really thought much about it before having a daughter of my own. I find it appalling that this line of bullshit is still being fed to young children. Look, if you want to tell your child that being verbally and/or physically abused is an acceptable sign of affection, i urge you to rethink your parenting strategy. If you try and feed MY daughter that crap, you better bring protective gear because I am going to shower you with the brand of “affection” you are endorsing.
When the fuck was it decided that we should start teaching our daughters to accept being belittled, disrespected and abused as endearing treatment? And we have the audacity to wonder why women stay in abusive relationships? How did society become so oblivious to the fact that we were conditioning our daughters to endure abusive treatment, much less view it as romantic overtures? Is this where the phrase “hitting on girls” comes from? Well, here is a tip: Save the “it’s so cute when he gets hateful/physical with her because it means he loves her” asshattery for your own kids, not mine. While you’re at it, keep them away from my kids until you decide to teach them respect and boundaries.
My daughter is 10 years old and has come home on more than one occasion recounting an incident at school in which she was teased or harassed by a male classmate. There has been several times when someone that she was retelling the story to responded with the old, “that just means he likes you” line. Wrong. I want my daughter to know that being disrespected is NEVER acceptable. I want my daughter to know that if someone likes her and respects her, much less LOVES her, they don’t hurt her and they don’t put her down. I want my daughter to know that the boy called her ugly or pushed her or pulled her hair didn’t do it because he admires her, it is because he is a little asshole and assholes are an occurrence of society that will have to be dealt with for the rest of her life. I want my daughter to know how to deal with assholes she will encounter throughout her life. For now, I want my daughter to know that if someone is verbally harassing her, she should tell the teacher and if the teacher does nothing, she should tell me. If someone physically touches her, tell the teacher then, if it continues, to yell, “STOP TOUCHING/PUNCHING/PUSHING ME” in the middle of class or the hallway, then tell me. Last year, one little boy stole her silly bandz from her. He just grabbed her and yanked a handful of them off of her wrist. When I went to the school to address the incident, the teacher smiled and explained it away to her, in front of me, “he probably has a crush on you”. Okay, the boy walked up to my daughter, grabbed and held her by the arm and forcibly removed her bracelets from her as she struggled and you want to convince her that she should be flattered? Fuck off. I am going to punch you in the face but I hope you realize it is just my way of thanking you for the great advice you gave my daughter. If these same advice givers’ sons came home crying because another male classmate was pushing them, pulling their hair, hitting them or calling them names, I would bet dollars to donuts they would tell him to defend themselves and kick the kid’s ass, if necessary. They sure as shit wouldn’t say, “he probably just wants a play date”.
I will teach my daughter to accept nothing less than respect. Anyone who hurts her physically or emotionally doesn’t deserve her respect, friendship or love. I will teach my boys the same thing as well as the fact that hitting on girls doesn’t involve hitting girls. I can’t teach my daughter to respect herself if I am teaching her that no one else has to respect her. I can’t raise sons that respect women, if I teach them that bullying is a valid expression of affection.
The next time that someone offers up that little “secret” to my daughter, I am going to slap the person across the face and yell, “I LOVE YOU”.
” You Didn’t Thank Me For Punching You in the Face « Views from the Couch (via ceedling)
And always remember that the boys are listening, too, and learning that this is how they are expected to show their affections.
(via joyouslyprofane)

day of rest

This post is an invitation for comments.

In dancing on the grass yesterday for the Westview Culture Days with the lovely Al Amar Dance Theatre, (Classes start this Wednesday at The Refinery in Saskatoon - check out their webpage for details!) I seem to have re-done whatever it was I did before to my foot where it feels like the cuboid bone slipped against the.... well, either the first metatarsals of the 4th and 5th toes or the transverse tarsal joint was the one doing the slipping. Either way, it resulted in dancing with a numb foot and now occasionally walking with great foot pain. As long as I stay off of it, it will be better by Wednesday. This is vital because that is when dance classes start, and I love to dance.

In the meantime, I am attempting a day of rest. This goes against my very grain. It is the weekend and I am supposed to be doing all of the active things I normally would not get to do during the week while sitting at a desk in an office. At the very least, going for a walk would be absolutely lovely as it is supposed to be quite nice out today, and there won't be very many quite nice out days left this season.

This post is an invitation for comments - what do you do with forced days of rest when you really don't feel like resting?

Once you're done answering that, you should really check out the info on classes with Al Amar. Aside from being super fun and super good for you, it'd be good for us to see some new faces too. And it's fun. Did I mention that? Really fun. If you do nothing else with your spare time, taking an Al Amar class will greatly enhance the amount of fun you have in your life.

Saskatoon Fireworks Festival, Aug. 31, 2012

I don't just write, I dance too!

blog posts to write

1. Connection of Jen's birth to Agent Orange, or Why I Don't Have a Sibling.

2. Dad's rifle pt. 2 - Is that the rifle you got the caribou with?

questions to answer, from a friend's blog

Original questions for you.

1: When you have a container of Neapolitan ice cream, what flavor do you leave for last? \
Always strawberry. I don't deliberately by Neapolitan for that reason.
 
2: Would you rather be caught in a thunderstorm without an umbrella or a snowstorm without boots?

Thunderstorm without umbrella - umbrella screams lightening, here I am!

3: Let's say you have access to a time machine, but it can only go either backward or forward. One or the other. Which do you choose and where do you go?

I honestly don't know because the idea of having a time machine freaks me out.

4: If you could choose to have any superpower ever, what would you pick?
The ability to make others realize their self-worth.

 

5: Tomorrow morning, you wake up in the body of a celebrity, like in a '90s body-swap movie. Who is it? How do they react to your life? What do you do when you're "them"? Would you choose to switch back?
No.

 

6: Any allergies?
sometimes springtime. And large concentrations of preservatives.

 

7: What would you be more embarrassed to buy: sex toys or adult diapers?
Neither. Sex toys are fun and adult diapers may one day be a necessity, not something to be embarrrased about.

 

8: Did you get enough sleep last night?

Probably.

9: You're the sole witness to a Mafia murder. Witness protection has to set you up with a whole new life in a totally new country. You have to leave everything behind, but you can pick where you move to. Where do you go?
I don't want to go anywhere. I really like Saskatoon.

 

10: If you could star in a biopic about any famous person ever, who would it be?
Nobody, I really like my life and I'm not a great actor.

 

11: What's the biggest animal you've ever killed? Bugs count.
I may have hit a bird or small rodent with my car.

 

12: Would you rather have millions of dollars but always feel nauseous when you go outside, or be dirt poor forever but never get sick again in your life?
Dirt poor and healthy. I can't handle nausea.

 

13: A wizard offers you immortality in exchange for your two front teeth. Do you take it?
No. These teeth are mine bitch!

 

14: Could you win the Hunger Games?
I wouldn't play.

 

15: What was your favorite Halloween costume as a kid? How about as a teen/adult?
I don't know. The easiest was the zombie belly dancer... but Queen of the Autumn Faeries was also pretty awesome.

 

16: Do you bite your nails?
Sometimes.

 

17: What was the first movie you remember seeing in the theater?
I don't remember the first one.

 

18: Do you prefer music with male or female vocalists?
It doesn't matter as long as they can sing well.

 

19: You and the love of your life are having a baby, and you get to choose the name! There's only one catch: your partner INSISTS that it be the name of a place, real or fictional. What do you name your baby?
So not happening.

 

20: If you could reboot or remake any movie, what would it be and who would you cast?
No.

 

21: If you could automatically know how to speak any language or play any instrument, which would you choose?
Playing instruments.

 

 

22: For you, would getting amnesia be a good thing?
No.

 

23: If you curse loudly and then realize that there are children nearby, what is your reaction?
I'd rather they hear it from me than learn it at school. I can teach kids how to curse properly if they really want to learn, whereas out in the world they mostly just learn to be crass and inappropriate with it.

 

24: Of what animal are you most afraid?
Tasmanian devil.

 

25: Pizza or oral sex?
Depends on the quality of the pizza.

 

26: Without looking them up, can you explain the rules of football? How about Quidditch? What do you think that says about you?
Probably not. Without looking them up I don't think I could even tell you what they are.

 

27: You're in the car, switching channels on the radio when you hear a song that makes you go "OH SHIT, THAT'S MY JAM!" What song is it?
If I ever said that out loud while driving I'd start to laugh so hard I'd get snot everywhere and probably get in an accident.

 

28: Have you ever paid to see a Step Up movie? If not, how much would someone have to pay YOU to see a Step Up movie?
Never heard of it.

 

29: If you were being executed tonight, what would you choose for your last meal?
Something involving mashed potatoes with skins and butter and salt and pepper and gravy. Probably blue-rare prime rib.

 

30: Have you ever bought an item of clothing because it reminded you of something a fictional character would wear?
I don't think so? Unless we're talking the fictional me in my head who is so much more awesome and brave and smart and pretty - she's someone I try to be more of and in that case, probably.

 

31: If you were invisible for a day, what would you do?
My husband. 

 

32: Have you ever been punched in the face?
Sort of. Broke my glasses, mostly missed my face.

 

33: How do you take your ramen noodles?
Either Vietnamese style with green onion and soup liquid and other veggies or drained with just the soup powder. Chicken flavour only.

 

34: Do you ever rehearse or plan conversations before you actually have them?
Sometimes, but they never go as they do in my head. Usually, being an introvert, I debrief them after and think up all the witty things I wish I'd said or done. I'm not sure if it's a useful exercise or not.

 

35: How much black do you wear on a regular basis (not counting funerals)?

Usually not much, it depends.

 

36: Do you have any tattoos? Do you want any?
One. And I'm rather on the fence about getting any more. I don't think I will.

 

37: If someone offered you a free pet snake, would you take it? It's not dangerous or really big or anything. They're just moving to a place that doesn't allow pets.
Probably. Especially if it came with a free terrarium and accessories.

 

38: Do you know how to pronounce the word "pinochle"?
Pinacle? 

 

39: Can you think of anything more boring than birdwatching?
Being injured and not being able to be on my feet for a week. Sucks.

 

40: Are you better with numbers or words?
Words, but lately this whole pregnant thing is making me borderline dyslexic with words and numbers.

 

41: At the movies, do you stay for the credits?
Sometimes. I like to know where things were filmed if the scenery is either stunning or if I think I've been there (and if it's the latter, usually I'm right).

 

42: Is morality universal or relative?
Seriously? 

 

43: Let's say you're getting married to someone you absolutely adore. The only catch is that you met them through a Craigslist hookup ad that was supposed to be just for one night of casual sex. Would you tell your friends how you and your fiance met?
Of course! That's hilarious! I might alter the details a bit for my Dad though...

 

44: What's the worst name you've ever been called? 

I'm generally not called names. 

 
45: Would you eat human flesh if it had been harvested and prepared humanely? (Say, from someone brain-dead who had marked him or herself down as an organ donor - same difference, right?)
My husband said I could eat him if he died. I probably wouldn't unless the world were also ending and protein was in short supply though. It's kind of creepy.

 

46: At what age did you stop believing in Santa? Alternately, if you never believed in Santa, did you ever ruin Santa for anyone else?
I can't remember. 

 

47: Do you get along better with old people or little kids?
Old people. Having a baby is sure going to be interesting!

 

48: If you had to choose, would you rather become a nun/monk or a drug dealer?
Nun.

 

49: What's your best bodily feature, objectively speaking?
I'm not objective about my body so ask someone else.

 

50: Who is your favorite late night talk show host? 

David Attenborough! 

(Wait, you mean you don't watch his nature shows alone in bed in the dark on your iPod?)

Food Storage - 3 days

This idea is based on something I found on Pintrest, which is, succinctly, as follows:

In the event of a catastrophe, it takes the average person's brain 3 days to figure out the gravity of the situation - in other words, in a situation like Hurricane Katrina, people's brains are traumatized en masse for an average of 3 days and nobody can think straight.

3-day food storage meal planning is based on this knowledge - for the first 3 days of a disaster, everyone will suck at things like thinking, rational decision making, and survival.

Wouldn't it be nice if you could have 3 days of boxes with food in them that goes well together to make a healthy meal that you don't have to cook, think about preparing, or need water for?

What I read suggested a simple meal plan around tuna. This wouldn't work at my house due to fish allergies, but I suppose we could substitute other canned meat. The Tuna Box would have about 5 cans of tuna (I'm basing this on our family - 2 adults and soon 1 baby/toddler), a jar of relish, jar of mayonnaise (we don't like store-bought mayo so maybe we could substitute salad dressing), a box or 2 of whole wheat crackers, a big can of fruit (or 2), and an individual sandwich baggie of trail mix for each person.

I think the challenge for us would be getting dairy... although I guess if we had powdered cheese we could always mix it with the aforementioned salad dressing... it would probably also mix well with canned hummus.

The challenge is to come up with 3 days of meal boxes, then fill them, label with a use by date, and every 6 months or so, eat what's in the box (the day after buying replacement food!). Having to actually eat your 3 day boxes twice a year will also serve as a good learning tool - what works? What doesn't?

I would enjoy a meal of canned meat, salsa (or canned stewed tomatoes), bagel chips (see, I'm diversifying! And they could be cheesy bagel chips! I rule!), a can of fruit (different fruit than the day before), and a snack of rice cakes with peanut butter and jam.

The last day could be a few cans of homemade hummus (I'm sure it can be done), pita chips, a can or 3 of a vegetable that doesn't suck when it's cold - maybe corn, another can of a different fruit, and for a snack maybe some... crackers made out of nuts with either jam or nutella (which is made with milk).



Another protein idea would be pickled eggs. My husband doesn't like them, but I'd be happy with them...

What are your 3 day food box ideas?

Food storage for beginners

With the recent and ongoing power outage in Prince Albert, Saskatchewan's 3rd largest city, I feel compelled to write a post on affordable food storage for beginners, as that is the level we were at when we started storing food - it had to be cheap and easy.

Here are some things to think about:

1. Pasta, rice, and wild rice, if left soaking in water long enough, will become soft. Rice is the better use of the water because you can add a little to start with and then add a little more as it gets soaked up. Pasta uses water but then what's left over isn't as awesome for drinking as fresh water.

2. Cans last almost forever. It's a good idea to rotate what's in your cupboards just to be safe. If you don't have anything in your cupboards, watch for things like 2 for $ or 3 for $ deals. Tomato sauce is a great one to have on hand because it makes everything awesome, even rice. Stewed tomatoes are almost better because they have liquid in them, which, in an emergency, would allow you to use less water for the rice.

3. Canned fruit is another smart buy, not only because it has vitamin C but because it is loaded with liquid. The more you can eat that is wet, the less water you'll need to drink.

4. Juice in tetra-paks is another item that is shelf-savvy. They last for a very long time and would allow you to further conserve water. Juice, too, is often on sale for really cheap, like 99 cents a litre, or sometimes even less. When it's that cheap and you would have normally picked up 1 litre for $2 or $3, pick up 2 or 3 litres for the same price. Store it.

5. If you know you're going to use something in your cupboard, buy a replacement for it and rotate it so that the oldest product is at the front of the shelf.

6. Protein storage is not impossible. Canned beans are fantastic for this. Busch's Beans even taste great cold, I think. Your other easy option would be dehydrated eggs. They don't exactly taste awesome scrambled like fresh eggs do, but you can put a teaspoon or 2 here or there and you won't even notice them. You could even mix them in with your tomato sauces if you found the idea of eating them plain vile.

7. A cheap camping stove is a really good idea. I'm talking literally the single burner that screws into the top of a bottle of propane. Those suckers heat stuff REALLY fast. I don't even think we went through a whole small bottle of propane on our honeymoon and we had hot beans with almost every meal. Also, it's easy to store the burner and a couple bottles of propane at home, and it's cheaper than a big bottle of BBQ propane, which is hard to acquire if you're poor and don't have a car (like we were when we went on our honeymoon). An alternate, which only works if you're willing to chop down your trees and share your food, is to make friends with the closest neighbour who has a fire pit. Another thing to keep in mind about propane is that you should keep it and use it outside, well away from your house. Chances are good you'll never have an incident with it, but it is odorless, accidents happen (especially if all hell's breaking loose and the apocalypse is striking), and you might thank me for that reminder in the end. And.... last thought on fuel: You probably shouldn't rely on your natural gas BBQ for an emergency situation. It might be awesome every other day of the year, and less of a PITA then propane, but if gas goes out with your power, you'll be glad for your portable alternative.

8.  Make sure you rotate something sweet in your food storage. Chocolate is good, something like pure chocolate chips, because chocolate doesn't really expire. It's still good to rotate it anyway but it will last for a very long time as long as it's kept dry and cool. Cookies are good too - Oreos have all kinds of preservatives in 'em (they make me itchy, which is lame) which means they'd be a good choice for longevity. Ritz crackers have the same sort of longevity. M&Ms are also known as pretty decent energy food, although lacking in nutrition. Things like nuts are good to have on hand for energy and mix well with chocolate, but only if you eat them often enough to go through them as they will go rancid faster than canned or sugary goods. Rum cake, if it's not against your religion, seems to last forever and is awfully tasty. It would make a nice treat in a crisis. I'm also under the impression that fruit cake, the Christmas kind, also lasts forever...

8 1/2: Foods high in acids and sugars have longer shelf lives. Maybe see how long a jar of pickled eggs will keep if you like pickled eggs (I do) or other pickled protein.

9. Whatever you do, don't stock up on an overabundance of junk food. It might seem cheap and easy but in a crisis situation you need real food and as best proper nutrition as possible in order to think straight and function properly.

10. It's not a bad idea to have a bottle of bleach on hand as well as it is useful for disinfecting things.

I guess the key to effective food storage is to find things that are cheap, healthy, and keep for a really long time. If you're stuck in an emergency, you probably won't care that you can't have T-bone steak and fresh veggies as much as you might think if you have a good selection of canned goods and a method with which to heat them. Remember too that variety is important - you don't want tomato sauce dishes for an entire week and you won't want beans for an entire week. But if you  have 5 or 6 kinds of canned veggies, 5 or 6 kinds of canned fruit, well, then you have options. And it might not be awesome if it goes on for more than a week, but when you think about the people who live near you who weren't prepared, you'll be glad you slowly acquired some basic food.

Where'd Jen go?

Week before last was super. People came to visit from out of town. I danced in a stellar show. We had breakfast in the back yard....

I also got super sick. And started a new job.

The new job is going well. The sick... is finally getting the antibiotics it deserves.

And my friend who was in Africa was allowed to leave the hospital finally too. I suspect she still has a long row to hoe but things are on the up and up. Her daughter is doing well too.

When I stop needing 2 hour naps after work interspersed with usage of entire boxes of kleenex, I might blog just a bit more.....

perfect sprinkler

Today I weeded the flower beds. While I did this, I tried out my awesome new sprinkler on the garden. (Mine is actually a lower-end model than the one I've linked to - maybe Gardena stopped making my model? Did I mention Gardena is the most awesome way to water things?) Not only does my awesome new sprinkler oscillate from one side of the garden to the other, the width of its spray is the EXACT length of my vegetable garden. It took a while to get it set so it wasn't spraying my neighbours, but now it is perfect. I weeded, the sprinkler sprinkled, and at the end I turned the water off, having accomplished the tasks of weeding and watering - at the same time.

This, my friends, is magic.

On another note, we've figured out how to get my friend and her daughter home and not starve them on the way there. This also adds to the feeling that today might just be magic.

Happy Saturday everybody.

abominations and violations

I hardly know where to begin this post.

I am thinking about a friend who is overseas. Specifically, she is in Africa. But not the Africa with safaris and really expensive resorts.

My friend went over to start a non-profit to try and do something really good for the food security of the people of Africa.

Instead... someone who said he would help her tried to steal from her online banking on her laptop. The bank froze her assets until she returns to Canada.

This was over 2 months ago.

Yes, that is right. My friend has been living the African Dream. She has no money, and she lives in a room guarded by armed guards with video surveillance. Her host family is looking after her... but they are no longer interested in having penniless guests. (Yes, my friend has her young daughter with her.)

She said they've mostly been eating ground beef, and occasionally they can get ahold of the back of a chicken, and once in a blue moon she's been able to trade English lessons for an egg or two. No veggies. Fruit is plentiful but the trees are all owned... and she is not the owner.

She spent most of the first month in hospital with malaria. She wasn't all better when they let her go. Her daughter is also sick now. But that's not the worst of it. She has some sort of bacteria or fungus that is causing her legs and feet to spontaneously break out in ulcers. My best guess based on what she said the doctors told her is Buruli ulcer disease. She was taken to the hospital and the doctor removed one of her ulcers, about the same diameter as a pop can, without anesthetic. Keep in mind that ulcers can go down quite deep too. She has had no painkillers, and no antibiotics. When the dressing is changed, her wound is simply lavaged with saline, which she said they also use to "wash" the needles. I'm not entirely certain if that means the needles are sterile and getting a saline flush, or if that means they're re-use needles.

I've made arrangements to get her home on the earliest flight out. It leaves Tuesday night. This has left the Bank of Jen very close to bankrupt. She is going to need some cash for the trip home though - not just to potentially bribe the immigration officials when she leaves but to for food for the two of them on the journey home. They will be en route for more than 24 hours.

This post was going to be about the abomination and human rights violation that passes for a Beninoise hospital and medical system (I hope I have the adjectival form of Benin correct, apologies if I am wrong). Instead it is me wondering where to get the money to wire to my friend to get her home safely and get she and her daughter to a proper hospital.

Yes, this has been keeping me up at night.

the garden is in

The garden is in. Carrots, peas, beans, corn, potatoes, tomatoes, cilantro, parsley, and new this year, asparagus.

Hooray!

Food for thought

This is important and you should read it.

why I no longer like bananas

I think this afternoon at work we might be meeting for chocolate covered bananas. This is the story of why I am bringing my own snack.

The first time I was in New Zealand I met a young man who I quite fancied. I decided to spend New Year's at his flat in Wellington. New Year's Eve was to be a big party, which was kicked off by a couple of bottles of chocolate dishwasher vodka, one having been made with plain milk chocolate, the other with banana flavoured chocolate.

The night, I'm quite sure, was long and fascinating. I have no recollection of going to the party. I don't know how I managed to get a back eye yet not break my glasses. And needless to say, the vodka didn't stay down.

I now have an unfortunate association of chocolate bananas and vomit.

The nice young man who I fancied is currently engaged to a lovely young woman. And I am happily married to someone else. I don't know if he still likes chocolate dishwasher vodka or not. Me? I've stayed away from it ever since, and I really don't party much ever anymore. I think the closest I get to going out and partying is being the hired bellydancer at the shisha lounge.

dead animal day

Today has been what will probably be normal for quite some time.

I ate breakfast. It was awesome (leftover homemade Mexican pizza, thanks Russell!). And then all of a sudden it wasn't awesome anymore and I didn't even want to look at food, least of all the awesome lunch I was making.

Then, later, I picked up some salad dressing for said awesome lunch. After dousing salad in dressing and taking a few bites, thinking it tasted funny, realized dressing was 2 years expired (good thing to know if I ever get stuff at the campus inconvenience store again). It had enough preservatives and vinegar and sugar in it that I decided to enjoy the rest of my salad anyway. It wasn't really all that enjoyable. I spent most of my afternoon trying to get the taste out of my mouth and trying not to think about what it would taste like if it came back up. Eeew.

And now. Well, 2 minutes ago, actually. All of a sudden, I'm no longer queasy and am ravenously attracted to dead animal, specifically raw fish. And it's so not going to happen before my dance rehearsal, although I do need to figure out something to eat between now and then. Which, given that I'll have maybe 5 minutes to get my stuff together once I get home, may prove nearly impossible if I actually want to be on time, and I do.



I guess I'd better drink lots more water before I leave so that queasy doesn't come back before I get home and find something awesome to eat........

things'n'stuff'n'things

I had a blast last weekend in Regina with my Mum. Mum is awesome!

Now it is Monday night. I have bags of stuff to unpack, laundry to do, a garden to hoe, after work work to do... it is what it is.

I might still be tired. Or maybe just tired of this splitting headache/backache....

but overall I'm very happy.

Friday fun time day

Today after work I'm going to meet my Mum in Regina for a super fun time. And she finally gets to hear about her surprise. It's going to be awesome. And shopping. Awesome. I want to leave now. The next hour and 45 is going to take FOR EVER. I'm already not concentrating very well on work.

Is it time yet?

How about now?

Now?

Reasons to Live

I've been thinking a lot about a handful of people I know who either have tried to kill themselves, have thought about killing themselves, know someone who took his or her own life, or wallow in the dull, gray pit of depression, either sometimes or all the time. For me, from me, this is for you.

Reasons to Live

1. I promise there is at least one person who loves you so much that the shock of your death would cause that person to vomit enough to need to go to the ER.

2. If you have an internet presence, and most of us do these days, somebody who you've never met before reads your posts. You have an effect on the life of a stranger.

3. Businesses you regularly patronize have staff who would wonder where their regular customer went.

4. There are people in your life who love you and who you can trust. If you are reading this, I am one of those people. I love you. And I promise that if you ever choose to confide in me, I will walk with you when I can, not judge you, and continue to let you know that I love you.

5. There is no such thing as good or bad, right or wrong when it comes to being a certain way. Those terms are subjective and dependent on one's sociocultural environment, on a micro and macro scale. I know that letting go of labels foisted upon us by others isn't easy, but we can do it.

6. Everybody has insecurities of some sort. People who don't are lying or in denial. You are not alone.

7. If we ever need to admit that something is wrong, hopefully we find an army of friends and family willing to be there with us. And if that is not the case, all you really need is one, maybe two people.

8. If you die now, you'll miss out on years of possibility.

9. Take a deep breath or 10. Put some rocks in your pockets (trust me, it helps). Find one good thing that happened in the last week. Focus on that good feeling.

If you need to seek help, it is okay to ask someone to help you with that. Chances are that person will be glad you asked.

If you or anybody you know needs counselling, I have a handful of contacts scattered across Alberta (and a great resource base to draw from) and a couple in Saskatchewan. My e-mail address is jbarrett@sasktel.net

I am also certified in Grief Support, if you would like somebody to walk that path with you.

The Doctor

The Doctor said he'd give me a reference. I think that's pretty sweet. I'd give him one too, although I realize it doesn't work like that.

Instead, I thought about giving him cough in a petri dish, as cough of uncertain etiology is one of his most frequent types of consultations. Only thing is, apparently Giant Microbes only accepts payment via credit card. I don't have a credit card. And I don't want one either. If you'd like to lend me yours for this purpose, let me know. I have cash.

In the meantime, it's only 1 more day until I meet Mum in Regina. And my husband comes home tonight, which is pretty awesome too.

That is all.

waiting.... waiting....

I seem to be not blogging every day but every other day. I think this is okay because sometimes I don't have a thing to say.

Yesterday's revelation was that, according to my aunt who attended a seminar on the topic, 93% of basic communication is conveyed through body language and tone. She and I both figure this is why neither of us do particularly well on (or like) the telephone! How the heck are you supposed to understand somebody if you can't see them when you're talking to them? And how are you supposed to focus on the conversation when, with the exception of your cognitive understanding of how technology works (and let's face it, most of us really can't explain current telecommunications systems) talking on the phone is pretty much the same as having a conversation out loud with somebody who's talking in your head. And y'know what that's called? Yeppers. Crazy.

I have very little to add to that. My weekend with Mum is coming up soon and I'm quite looking forward to it. Otherwise, same old same old.....

sleepy

Yesterday I decided I'd drive Russell to the shop before he left for out of town work. He had to arrive at 4:30 am.

Yesterday that sounded like a very good idea.

And I did get an awful lot of work done before work.

But the rest of my day has been almost useless. I am tired. Really tired. I kind of want to just go home and go to bed. It's nice out and I don't even want to walk home. I just want to take the bus. Maybe even nap on the bus.

yesterday and today

My Thursday night show at Lounge 306 was a hit with the crowd - I had quite a solid applause at the end. Awesome! And my new costume stood up to the challenge too, which is always a relief.

Yesterday was quiet. This is probably why I have nothing to say. Today is much the same.

I might clean out my office in between bouts of work today. But I also have to dig in the garden because I'm not home next weekend and the weekend after that is the long weekend, also known as time to plant the garden.

hrm.....

new shampoo day 2

It's the 2nd day after washing my hair. My hair feels fabulous and there are no oat bits left.

I remade the recipe with a couple of variations on the cornstarch theme. I think that will work much better.

I'm dancing tonight. I'm quite excited about it. I really hope there are people there....

new shampoo day 1

Well.... I had a lot of oat bits in my hair today. And I brushed it after putting on a black shirt. Uh huh. So... I think this batch, since it did so well with my hands, is going to become a body wash and I will try the recipe again but with cornstarch instead of oat flower. Also, I could probably half the amount of essential oil and still have very happy hair.

My hair, oat bits aside, feels fabulous and sniffing the awesome lemony-lime while falling asleep with a wet head last night was pretty fantastic.

new shampoo

Last week, I tried new shampoo and conditioner. It promised to make my naturally wavy hair all curly and stuff.

The new shampoo smelled so strongly of chemicals that I could barely stand to be in the shower with it. And it made my hair straight. Not just straight. Straight and excessively greasy. And it got progressively worse. It didn't actually *clean* my hair.

So I dumped it.

I found a recipe for homemade shampoo on the internet and based on that, here is what I've done, to be tested tonight:

I had an empty 400 ml bottle with a pump. This is fantastic.

I added to it 2 tbsp baking soda, about 6 heaping teaspoons of oatmeal (ground to a fine flour in a coffee grinder), and about 60 drops each of lemon and lime essential oils.

I tested it on my  hands, after adding water and vigourously shaking it. My hands smell like awesome and my skin feels like awesome.

I'm pretty optimistic that this will be my new all in one hair wash product.

Oh, and the best part? The cost of making it was almost zilch. If you only added one essential oil or no essential oil, you'd probably be looking at about $0.25 a bottle.

So take that P&G and.... well.... okay. I know Proctor & Gamble won't care one bit if I never buy their shampoo again. But I care. And hopefully you'll be brave enough to give it a try too.

(I also have a recipe for laundry soap that I LOVE, and whenever I run out of toothpaste (we have a very large stash) I will try making some homemade toothpaste that doesn't taste like bad. Apparently the secret is mint essential oil. Who knew?)

For Michael and Clare, whatever island you may be on...

An old friend of mine has very recently become engaged. This is quite exciting.

I met my friend one day in Wellington, fairly randomly. He complimented my pants.

Years down the road we still write letters. We did meet once, a couple years after the original meeting. It was awkward. I still think he's awesome.

Today I was greeted with the joyful news that he is engaged to a wonderful woman. I suppose I say this rather presumptively - I know of her via the world of social networking. She has a beautiful smile. More than that though, she has a beautiful energy that I can sense, intrinsically tied to the energy of my beautiful friend.

He has had other relationships over the years, and traveled with at least one of them, but she has truly been the only one with such a bright, lovely light.

I am very excited for both of them, and wish them a very long life together full of light and love.

Bellydancer for hire

I have a gorgeous new dance costume made by an awesome designer in Giza (you know, where the pyramids are).

If you know anybody who's looking for a bellydancer for hire, drop me a line at jbarrett@sasktel.net

If you're looking for more than one bellydancer, check out Al Amar Dance Theatre for information on the company I dance with.

And if you're a dancer looking for an awesome costume, check out Adel Mahmoud Abdo Mohamed's work. He does custom costumes, the workmanship is excellent, the timeline between ordering and receiving costumes is speedy, his customer relations skills are supreme, prices are reasonable... and the best part? It fits like a glove. I don't need to do any alterations at all.

only 70 pages to go!

I decided to write something every day, even if it's totally crappy or lame.

Today's a crappy and lame day.

I'm retyping a thesis (just over 100 pages) because the document, for some dumb reason, is corrupted completely on my computer (although I suspect it is elsewhere and they just haven't noticed yet...).

I am taking a break. By typing.

Lame.

Tomorrow my husband is taking me somewhere to do something. He won't tell me what. The last time he surprised me with a date we ended up starting out by going to a shooting gallery (my first time, totally awesome), followed by a night at a strip club (also my first time, mixed reaction). The strip club was odd. There were women dancing who had no love for their work, fake boobs... etc. And then there was one who looked like she was actually having way more fun than anyone else in the room, no plastic surgery or fake anything. She was incredible. She put on a very, very good show. I'd watch her perform again because she put on such a good show. The fact that she got naked was actually irrelevant - she had incredible pole skills and was very entertaining. Most of the others though, they probably shouldn't be in the industry. They didn't look like they were having a good time, and they're probably smart enough to at least do something like stock store shelves at night. They weren't unemployable.

Anyway, I have to get back to work now.

My Mum

I've been thinking a lot about what to do for mother's day this year. Mum suggested meeting in Regina. I think that would be a blast! If we meet on the Friday after work, we could just hang out or go for a movie. And on the Saturday we could do some shopping at the Sears Bargain Centre (aka my alltime favourite discount cheapo store) and then go for another movie. Maybe even 2 movies if there are any that are good. And we could go to the book store. And possibly the Bulk Barn for some road munchies. And then on Sunday morning, after a lovely breakfast somewhere, we can head home with most of a day left so that neither of us feel rushed to do things like housework.

My Mum is amazing. I don't just want to hang out with her because there are things to do that I think would be fun. My Mum is creative and when we talk we figure stuff out. Sometimes it's major stuff. Sometimes it isn't. We also tend to have quite a lot of fun together too, I suppose because neither of us are particularly afraid.

My Mum also has a beautiful smile and a truly joyful laugh. I appreciate her honesty. And her style. I wanna be as funky as my Mum when I grow up!

My Mum is the most awesome woman I know.

I love you Mum!

coping mechanisms

The other day I got to eat lunch with my husband. This is rare because we do not usually work anywhere near each other. He was going to stop at the booze store on the way to give a co-worker a lift home, and asked if I'd like anything. No thanks, I said. I don't think drinking would be at all good for me right now.

My husband is aware that things have been strange with me for quite some time. I have been aware only more recently.

I have cried for no reason at all. I have been miserably sad.

And yet I have also had some of the best times of my life. But.

It's usually not a good sign when I'd rather stay in than go to my dance class. I love my dance class. And part of what I love so much about it is that it is orderly, organized, and occurs at a set time every week. This means I have the joy of anticipating it. I know I love it. How many days now? Is it Wednesday yet?

I need that structure and dependability. And it has to be something I LOVE with people who I either love or don't speak to. What do I mean by that? The women I dance with are amazing people. They are my soul community. Together we speak the language of dance. And it is incredible, uplifting, intense, spiritual, physical, and greatly enhances my sense of self worth. On the other end there is the yoga that I have periodically done. It is the same but without speaking. It is my time to spend an hour and a half in conscious movement with strangers, completely silent. I'm not there to make friends. I'm there for the group body movement and calm mind. And to get really, really sweaty. And afterward? I feel amazing.

I started dancing in Saskatoon because I needed to get out of the house. I figured I'd pick something I liked because even if I ended up disliking the people (it's happened - case in point being my first bellydance teacher, from whom I still managed to learn quite a bit even if we weren't really on speaking terms at the end) I still love the dance and could grow my skills.

I started going to yoga for very similar reasons - a desire for physical activity and a desire to have something to do on the weekend.

Last weekend I went for a drive. It was long. I picked a road that ended up going nowhere but it was dirt and mostly free from traffic. It was a good road for crying. I listened to music of the lovely Shelley Foss and cried and cried and cried. It was Saturday morning.

What was I missing so strongly? What did I need?

The answer was and is simple.

A month or so ago my best friend moved to Africa. I think it's been longer, actually. And I didn't hear from her at all for the first 4 weeks. When I called her, I discovered it was because she'd spent most of that time in hospital. And other things, just as bad, matters of the heart. They're not mine to blog about. But we talked. And the call was only dropped once. And we talked for a long time.

But that's been it. And we used to talk almost every day.

We used to get together on the weekend, usually for the purpose of going shopping, often followed by lunch. This came to be our Sunday thing, until she found a church that fit for her, but still we talked.

I am currently searching for an additional best friend. I may have found somebody. She is a very different person than my far away best friend. I think that being her best friend will require a high level of independence, self-worth, and possibly sociability in groups. All of this is just fine. And I think I'm up for it. But I have to confess I'm also afraid of getting my hopes up. I don't have close, intimate friendships with people on a constant basis. I have very close friends who live far enough away that we mostly write to each other and occasionally get a weekend of time face to face. I have one intimate relationship, and it is with my husband. Romantic too, as it should be. But otherwise I've always kept people at arm's length.

By now somebody's probably wondering how I feel about my friend moving to Africa. The answer? Totally excited for her. Especially as soon as she gets healthy and things start going right. She's met some good people there and it sounds like it is exactly what she needs. For her, I am very grateful for all of that. It is time that things start going really well for her. And I am never one to turn down an adventure, even if it's not really my cup of tea. I've left friends on a whim a few times. Australia, New Zealand, southeast Asia...

And that's hard too, especially the being alone part. Sure, you meet people. But start hanging around with somebody and then go somewhere else, apart, and there's a pang of loss of companionship that burns in the soul. Traveling, if nothing else, is extremely good for soul searching. I wrote a lot of letters. Took a few pictures. I even bought myself a guitar to keep myself company at night. (It was quieter than a drum.)

What are my quality coping strategies?

When I'm angry, writing or making art is often effective. Or digging in the garden. This only works in the spring before it's planted....

When I realized I needed quality companionship outside of the house, I declared Sunday date day with my husband - we'll take turns picking something to do. Last weekend we went to the beach. This weekend it's his turn. Weekend after that is mine and we'll probably go to the zoo.

Dance is definitely a coping strategy, but something I much prefer to do in a group.

Riding my bike also gives me good perspective and thinking time, but is not something I should do if I am crying as that makes my perception of traffic around me fairly sketchy.

Walking is when I do my best thinking. I carry a notepad these days. I can't write letters while I walk (but oh if I could....) but I can make lists and plans. Walking is also good solitude time. But it's not really that solitary. There's a rabbit I meet almost every morning on my way to work. And there are always robins and dogs. Their owners usually try to keep the dogs heeled, but occasionally I get to greet one. In the winter this happened with a golden retriever. I reached out with my hand, as I always would. I was wearing my sock monkey mittens. This thoroughly confused the dog, who began to bark at my mittens. Which caused me to use the hand in question to puppet the mitten. Poor doggy!

I also grow things. Summer is the best for this - there is *always* something to do in the yard. And the best part of planting vegetables is going out on a weekend morning and picking what's ripe for breakfast. Awesomeness. Plants inside are pretty good too, but flowers and houseplants require very little attention. Veggies usually take up a bit more effort.

Housecleaning is good if I am anxious and do not know why. This is usually a very effective way to get the house really super awesomely clean. Anxiety makes a good scrubbing pad. Housecleaning never fixes or solves anything but it's an outlet for that awful anxious energy and it gives me time to think and try to figure out what's wrong and how I can fix it.

At Your Leather - a note to a friend

At Your Leather

I put something on your facebook
for you to read at your leather
It might help explain why we both feel so emotional.

And yet it doesn't.

I don't know what blockages I'm releasing.
But they surely must be emotional ones because there are no words.

Am I hanging on too tightly?

Or am I just afraid of that dark abyss that lays beyond my desire to cry because everything feels worthless, useless, stupid, idiotic, angering,
and
leaving me feeling like a waste of space?

Whatever it is, I'll take the solidarity that I'm not totally alone on this.

Thanks for being honest.

Love,
Jen

The Book

I got through some writing last night. I'd forgotten how much I'd already done. It's intimidating because I'm holding myself to a much higher standard than usual - the kind that's pretty much make it publishably perfect or don't waste my own living space. And the fact that once or twice a year I think I can be that person, well, that's pretty amazing.... but the rest of the time, what the heck? Really?

on dark little hovels

It's been a few days. I think I'm brave enough to open my book and do some writing. And by my book, I mean the novel that's been very poorly neglected. In fact, maybe you didn't even know I was writing it. Well, now you do. Great. Giving myself expectations to live up to that aren't mine now.

The question at hand was why dank, wretched, dirty little hovels make for the best creative space. The answer is surprisingly simple: When you have absolutely no distractions, no material wealth, and very few standards to live up to, it is shockingly easy to see beauty and feel love in those dark places. Every little thought, act, feeling, reaction - it all feels like more somehow. When you're not sure where your next meal is coming from, it's actually easier to stop and smell the flowers. When you don't know if you'll have a roof over your head the next night or not, well, it makes it a lot easier to wait for the train home while sitting somewhere out of the way on the platform. And if you're told that only (insert racist slang term for local native peoples here) sit on the kerb while having a snack, and you're the kind of person who feels injustice at that, the remark makes it easier to just stay sitting. (Don't y'all see that I'm clearly not the kind of person you can put a label on and walk away from? I'm asking you by my non-interaction to engage with me on a soul level because that's where I'm at and that's how I'm seeing you right now and it would be just oh so amazing if you'd deign to come down here and show me who you are underneath your skin...)

There was a giant centipede on the front step. Its body was slowly being eaten by ants. Welcome home.
Inside everything was sticky from the humidity - the walls, the dishes, the countertops, chairs, tables, even somehow the bed linens. The bathroom was in a permanent state of funk, the shower curtain long ago ceasing to be of the realm of the living. A gentle, hot breeze wafted through the open window. Sweat greased the edges of the writer's hairline and pooled on her lower back, stinging her fresh tattoo. She reached into the fridge for some yogurt-ish dairy-like snack. The container was covered in a layer of slippery moisture. She was grateful it was plastic and not paper.
The apartment was shared space. Last night while she was reclusive in her upstairs bedroom (the bed smelled of mould) the dining area of the apartment had been overtaken by a fellow from New Zealand, a mate of his from the island, and someone from South America he'd met somewhere who claimed to be a shaman. She'd declined an offer to join them with wine, attempting to stay the course of being faithful to her writing instead of the so-called sins of the flesh. (Or was that pleasures of the flesh?) When she awoke hours later from her nap to discover it wasn't midnight and the party downstairs was full of obnoxious stories being told, she wished to reconsider her decision. In the end she decided that she was feeling far too self-conscious to possibly pull of the dramatic entrance required of such an incredibly late arrival to the party. Also, she had no gifts, and was under the impression that it was uncool to arrive at a party with a shaman and not bring gifts, even if she thoroughly doubted his shamanic abilities. Whatever the case, party demonstrated that he did have the ability to tell a story and captivate an audience, which is at least half the gift.
The island was paradise, but for the purpose of her mission it was not nearly run-down and dirty enough. Mission? To work on a book started in what felt like a prior life, so very long ago. This mission was about to be interrupted by the arrival of her ex-boyfriend, who, she was quite certain, had only decided to follow her to such a remote place in the south Pacific with the intention of repairing their relationship. She was adamant that this would not happen. The fact that he'd planned to stay for nearly the whole month put a severe damper on her plans to write. The island was too small to hide from each other, especially given they had so much in common in terms of interests.
The space she'd been hoping to find for writing, the ideal space, would have been much more run down, dirty, more hovel-like. The kind of space where she wouldn't feel bad cracking a cold Cook's Lager at 8 a.m., or not showering every day, or wearing out the same pair of island shorts and white shirt, now just a little too dirty from being worn every day. The book demands that kind of atmosphere.

*******

My profile picture on this blog was taken by said ex boyfriend on the island of Rarotonga. My book is still largely unfinished, but if it ever does get finished, I'll let you know. In the meantime, I invite comments as to why I feel the need for dank little hovels as the best creative space...

Why Jen and skirts don't love each other

I had a very good comment from a friend in the Church yesterday who said Blogger said her comment was too long to post. Boo blogger!

But in Jen-speak, the gist of it was that particular items of clothing are worn ritualistically (really, it is a ritual to get dressed up for church)to show reverence for the Divine.

I can respect that a whole lot more...

and in further discussion with said friend discovered that my issue is actually not so much with the policy as with my own feelings of vulnerability. Apparently wearing a skirt makes me feel vulnerable, a feeling that can be overcome with the presence of my husband - literally within arm's reach. Otherwise, the vast majority of the times that I've worn skirts (dance performances excepted) or dresses, they've been over pants. Or shorts. But usually pants. Sometimes capris.

Wearing skirts makes me feel hideously uncomfortable. Wearing skirts over pants is just about the most awesome thing I ever could have come up with and have been doing for most of my life.

There was quite a bit more soul-searching than that involved in what I replied to my friend. The fact that I know she's going to consider what I said and give me a real answer, and not a canned Church policy answer, is probably why I consider her such a good friend. And I am very curious to hear what she has to say... and to find out what the Church might think if I showed up with pants under my skirt.

Assuming I get over the other reasons why I stopped going to church...

appropriate clothing

I was daydreaming on the topic of things that are and are not appropriate to wear to work. I draw the line at backless shirts that show bras, and lace shirts that also show bras, even if they're only lace in the back. And as much as I might want to, I'd never wear a strapless anything to work. One of my favourite summer dresses is strapless. I might wear it as a skirt to work, but not as a top.

This then brought back a memory. A what was I thinking kind of memory.

I was in church. Specifically, a Relief Society meeting. I'd worn my little black dress because it was the only skirt-like thing I owned that was clean. I should add that there is an unwritten rule (at least, I think it's unwritten) that women are only allowed in the chapel in skirts. Anyone who knows me knows that this really, really, really pisses me off. This is dumb. I didn't own skirts that weren't part of dance costumes until I started going to church.

On this particular day, as mentioned, I was in the little black dress. It had little black sleeves. It was a button up dress. It was also particularly short. When I sat down and crossed my legs, you could see entirely too much leg for church. Which I realized But Eff Me, seriously, with what happened next.

The "talk" was begun with a "reminder" about the nature of appropriate clothing to wear to church, especially how our skirts should not be too short.

I have no idea which sister gave the talk. I don't care. I don't even know if she'd seen me. But do you know how I felt? I damn near walked out. If you're going to make a misogynist rule about women having to wear skirts in the chapel, in my not particularly humble or non-hostile opinion, you've just lost the right to have any control over those skirts whatsoever.

Maybe next time I'll wear the little black skirt with the laces down the sides. And maybe I'll find a shirt with a lace back and wear a flourescent bra underneath it. Maybe I'll put my hair in a mowhawk while I'm at it and wear a thick layer of sparkles on my eyes. And to top it off you know I'd have to break out the 5-inch stiletto heels and fishnet stockings.

I don't disbelieve that my church means well, and as anyone who has seen me at work and read past dissertations on how I don't own anything sexy unless a vaguely tight wool sweater counts, clearly I am about 95% conservative in my dressing habits. And I'd have to say my clothes are pretty nice too. Even (especially) my pants.

That said, the Church can take its outdated, misogynist Bee Es and keep it. Far. Far. FAR. away from me. God gave me female genitals. How I choose to portray that in society is between me, and God. I'm not going around burning my bra, or advocating for anything that would get my picture in the DSM.

In fact, I'm not even sure why this is still an issue in the Church. And I know I'm not the first woman who's expressed discomfort at having to show up somewhere in a skirt. Unless, of course, it's a miniskirt. In which case I'm delighted you invited me!

Blogger for iPod? It won't let me type a post... :(

blog help?

I wonder if any of my tech savvy mates can give me a pointer... I saw on a friend's page a word box with um... words.. in it... and some of 'em were bigger than others indicating more frequent usage in her blog posts and... I want something like that. OR maybe it was tags. And I don't tag stuff. So I don't know. Who wants to fill me in? In the meantime, I have a date with some passionflower tincture and my bed. 3 cheers for morning showers.

Wednesday morning, birthday week

Visions of costumes and a song I have always wanted to choreograph dance in my head. I like it.

http://www.oriental-dancer.com/productDetails.aspx?type=product1 is a link for some costumes I love, designed by Mohammed Gomaa. (apparently the picture I wanted to post is too big for blogger. Sigh. Go look yourselves, it's worth it.) I love his work. I find it to be leaps and bounds above the rest in terms of sheer creativity. And I want one of the costumes he has listed on Facebook because it matches a pair of earrings I have. Which is maybe not entirely true. I want it because it also happens to be one of my favourite colours. And I love the design.

Sigh.

I think I will end up working with royal purple and royal blue this year though, because those are the fabrics that I have. And the song I want to work on? It's my favourite Shakira piece. I've improved it a few times. Here's a link... http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5BzkbSq7pww

Makes me giggle.

http://crappypictures.typepad.com/