Pregnancy is too complicated

So a couple nights ago I was seized with the overwhelming desire to toss all forms of birth control out the window and get pregnant as soon as possible. Woo hoo! But then I realized (with the help of my husband) that there are many things we must do before getting pregnant. Here are 25 things I MUST do (according to the experts) before I get pregnant:

1) I must go off my anti-depressant medication
2) I must have a physical, likely followed by a round of antibiotics as I always seem to have a mild UTI, which is linked to miscarriage
3) Add more calcium and B-vitamins to my daily prenatal vitamin
4) I must lose 80 pounds
5) I must rid myself of all cosmetic products, shampoos, Saran Wrap and soft plastic items which contain phthalates which cause genital abnormalities in the male fetus
6) I must purge my house of all tuna products and soft cheeses
7) I must (somehow) determine whether my vinyl lunchbag is the kind that contains lead or that doesn't contain lead and if so, find a new one
8) I must train my dog to do a "down-stay" as well as play him a CD of baby crying and screaming sounds for him to get used to
9) I must take out a massive student line of credit to cover unexpected costs
10) I must get a flu shot
11) I must engage in daily relaxation exercises to ensure that my stress levels don't reduce my fertility
12) I must switch to organic everything in order to cleanse myself of pesticides that can harm my baby
13) I must develop methods for relieving headaches that don't involve Advil or Asprin (impossible, as am convinced that Tylenol is a sugar pill)
14) I must engage in a range of squats, pelvic tilts and abdominal and kegel exercises to ensure efficient birthing process
15) I must compile list of midwives as you cannot make an appointment before you are pregnant but by the time you find out you are pregnant (two weeks after conception), their waitlist will be too long to accommodate you
16) I must sit down with my husband for long, protracted discussion of our own childhoods and how our experiences may be influencing our attitudes towards parenthood
17) I must have sex in every place imaginable while I still can
18) I must kick my decades long diet coke habit
19) I must limit my time in front of the computer (ack!) because of the radiation from the screen
20) I must get a dental check up as gum disease is linked to miscarriage
21) I must take a lavish vacation with my husband as a last hurrah before children
22) I must chart my basal body temperature to determine my ovulation cycle
23) I must figure out how to tell "egg-white" cervical mucus from other kinds and when my cervix feels more like my nose or like my lips (I'm serious)
24) I must adjust to lukewarm showers as hot showers can raise the body temperature which can be harmful to the fetus
and last but not least
25) I must determine solar flare activity for the upcoming year as solar flares increase the general level of radiation experienced on the earth, which may harm my fetus

Yeah, guess we won't be chucking the condoms quite yet

One step closer to parenthood

So I was reading Dooce.com the other day and was reading her old back entries on when she was pregnant (since I am obsessed with getting pregnant next year and dooce always tells it like it is, I thought she'd provide a good sense of what pregnancy is like). She had a post about her dog throwing up and how cleaning up his vomit made her feel a little more parental. I had a similar moment yesterday.

As you may know, Buddy is a lousy player. We take him to the park where all the other dogs are running around. We take off his leash with a flourish, crying aloud "Run free, little doggin. Run free!" At which point he either dashes off after a squirrel not to be seen again for an hour (very, very bad) or he finds the nearest piece of garbage at eat it. Dogs will run up to him and he will ignore them. They are practically inhaling his penis they are sniffing so much, and he just acts like no one is there.

Anyway, we got sick of chasing after him when he was squirrel hunting so, for his off-leash time, we've been mostly taking him to a small park across the street where there are few squirrels. So, since there are no squirrels, he's been eating a lot more garbage. And I know what you're thinking - "Why don't you stop him from eating the garbage?" Because he's sly, that's why. He'll pretend like he's just sniffing around for a place to pee and then he'll scoop up some bit of something and turn his head away and act like he's still sniffing around until he's swallowed it. And this happens every three feet or so. It's a constant battle. Lately his favourite garbage has been little circular pieces of cardboard that seem to be shaker tops (why are these in the park every day?) and folded up pieces of cardboard about an inch square (still a mystery what these are). He's been eating these as much as he can for at least a month with no problems. Until last night.

Just before his nighttime pee, Buddy let out a huge burp and then barfed twice on our floor. This was shocking because Buddy has only barfed once in the year and half that we've had him and then he was very sick. Anyway, there were little brown squares in his barf that were either little ribette bones or this cardboard paper. And because I am a doggy parent, I did what any good doggy parent would do - I picked one up out of the puddle of vomit to determine what it was (it was cardboard). Then I wiped off his mouth and cleaned up the vomit puddles and fussed over him when he got back from peeing. And it's true what dooce said - it's not the same as parenthood, but it made me feel a little bit more like a real parent. Plus, dog barf isn't nearly as gross as people barf so it's not so traumatic - a good warm-up exercise for parenthood. :)

I am the queen of organization

So for the last month, this piece of paper has been serving double duty as both my mousepad and my notepad for all of the crazy informaiton I needed to do my comprehensive exam (still no official word) and my scholarship applications. Now that it's all over, I want to throw it out but first I have to transfer all of this info to the relevant files. And for those of you wonder what NKOTBLRICTWGCIWAR stands for it's "NewKids on the Block. Let's rock! It's Christmas time, we're gonna celebrate it with a rhyme." Don't ask.

Social activist in the making

I was home this weekend and unearthed my grade 6 diary. As the entry posted below shows, already my social consciousness was growing, though apparently, the injustices of the world didn't exactly keep me up at night.

September 21, 1987.
Dear Diary,
Guess what? Mr. K changed his mind. We're not doing solutions, we're doing plants. Oh well, it'll be fun at least. You know I've been thinking lately about how lucky I am. I mean, I've got a perfect family. A large allowence, all the food and clothes I could want. What more could I ask for? (a winning lottery ticket!) But such is life it's so incredibly unfair. If you don't have white skin your not as good? Wrong! Well, such are the ways of this wicked world. Gotta go! Bye!
Yours truley,
Erin

I had also begun to delve into deep philosophical questions regarding the very nature of reality (and yes, I did use both the words quote and unquote - unquote notice, not end quote - and actual quotation marks. What can I say? I was thorough).

September 25, 1987.
Dear Diary,
Do you think there are aliens. I do! I mean maybe they live inside the planet not outside like us. What about the universe? Does it end? What comes after? Is the universe just a cloud in the sky. Quote "If every 100 years an eagle brushed the top of a 100 foot mountain with just one feather, when there was no more of the mountain just a second has passed in eternity." unquote.
Yours truly,
Erin

But despite the great leaps I was making in my social and intellectual development, I apparently still had a few problems with keeping perspective (FYI, I always got stinking buttloads of stuff for Christmas, way more than was reasonable. Always).

December 31, 1987.
Dear Diary,
I will fill you in eventually I promise. Today Shannon + I went to the mall and I bought a really cool camera. It $28.75 but it was $13.00 less than before. You won't believe this. Shannon is going to England and than
PARIS!!!!
Some people have all the luck. Then again her mother was killed in a car accident. Well today is the last day of the year. We are going ot a movie tonight. Shannon went home and I'm in my room. Paris! Paris in France! What I wouldn't do to go there. And Shannon is going. I mean shit I havne't even been out of North America. The farthest I've gone is Florida. I cleaned up all my Christmas things. I didn't get a lot this year. I went to get that WOB money and guess what. The post place was closed. My god well see you next year!
Love
Erin

Cute pooch!

Look at this super-cute print I got for $4.50 (with a matte) at my school's poster sale. I love it!

And Jesus blushed and said "I don't know this guy, I swear."

Seriously guys, this one doesn't even need me to say anything. It speaks for itself. I found it at
http://datelinehollywood.com/archives/2005/09/05/robertson-blames-hurricane-on-choice-of-ellen-deneres-to-host-emmys/ Oh, Christians. WWJD? My guess is hide in embarassment.

ROBERTSON BLAMES HURRICANE ON CHOICE OF ELLEN DEGENERES TO HOST EMMYS
Lesbian is New Orleans native
Hollywood – Pat Robertson on Sunday said that Hurricane Katrina was God’s way of expressing its anger at the Academy of Television Arts and Sciences for its selection of Ellen Degeneres to host this year’s Emmy Awards. “By choosing an avowed lesbian for this national event, these Hollywood elites have clearly invited God’s wrath,” Robertson said on “The 700 Club” on Sunday. “Is it any surprise that the Almighty chose to strike at Miss Degeneres’ hometown?”Robertson also noted that the last time Degeneres hosted the Emmys, in 2001, the September 11 terrorism attacks took place shortly before the ceremony.
“This is the second time in a row that God has invoked a disaster shortly before lesbian Ellen Degeneres hosted the Emmy Awards,” Robertson explained to his approximately one million viewers. “America is waiting for her to apologize for the death and destruction that her sexual deviance has brought onto this great nation.”
Robertson added that other tragedies of the past several years can be linked to Degeneres’ growing national prominence. September, 2003, for example, is both the month that her talk show debuted and when insurgents first gained a foothold in Iraq following the successful March invasion. “Now we know why things took a turn for the worse,” he explained.
In order to avoid further tragedy, Robertson called not only for the Television Academy to find a new heterosexual host, but to bar all homosexuals and bisexuals from taking part in the ceremony.
He said employees at the Christian Broadcasting Network had put together a list of 283 nominees, presenters, and invited guests at the Emmys known to be of sexually deviant persuasions.
“God already allows one awards show to promote the homosexual agenda,” Robertson declared. “But clearly He will not tolerate such sinful behavior to spread beyond the Tonys.”

Ummmm... what's your name again?

I know, I know. It's been a very long time since I last blogged. But I have a much good reason. I've been writing my comprehensive exams. This is a week long set of exams that I need to get an A on in order to get my Ph.D. Because apparently getting straight A's and scholarships for the last NINE years isn't enough proof for them that I am smart. Apparently, they need me to sit down and write 5 essays in a week to prove it one... more.... time. Gug. Anyway, that's what I've been doing. I've had four panic attacks, two of which occurred in public. And a had a half a panic attack when I was handing my work in. I started frantically checking my essays to see that I had all the pages, that the pages had staples, that I was wearing underwear, that it was actually Tuesday and not Monday, that dog was still god spelled backwards etc. The elderly woman next to me on the subway was sort of looking so I said "I'm handing in my exam and must check it obsessively." She smiled and said, "yes, I know, I was young once too." I said, "I go crazy checking it over and over." and she said "You're not the only one who does it." I love that lady. She made my chest stop pounding for 4 whole subway stops and made me feel slightly less alone in the mad, crazy universe of the subway panic attack.

Anyway, during the last week, I've spent about 12-14 hours a day writing the essays. Saturday night, day 5 of the exam, I decided that at 8:00 I would stop and not do anymore work for the rest of the night. Mark and I tried to rent a movie but there was nothing good out. And nothing good on tv. So I thought, hey, maybe I'll read a book. And then I threw up a little in my mouth at the thought of stuffing anymore knowledge into my head. So then I thought, I know, crossword puzzle. And I pulled out my word puzzle book (yes, I have a word puzzle book. Several actually. Yes, I'm a geek). I flipped through and was feeling vaguely panicked by the challenging stuff so I decided on a nice simple word search. You know, where you find the words hidden in the random letters. They used to have them in Chickadee magazines when you were five or sometimes you'd get them at the dentist with words like "floss" and "toothbrush" hidden amongst a page of q's and z's. My point is, it's as easy as the word puzzle gets.

Anyway, I lasted TWO WORDS before my brain threatened explosion and I had to stop. It turns out, I had pushed the old computer to the limit and it was heading toward the picket line (Hey, I like to mix my metaphors!). The only thing I could handle was tv. And not even watching a show. Just flipping through the channels. For two hours. Just me and the remote while Mark sought refuge downloading music online. Two hours of flip... flip...flip... Then I was tired and I went to bed.

Anyway, my brain is coming back today. Enough that I realized I wrote in my paper that the case study woman was emotionally liable instead of emotionally labile. I'm just going to have to hope the examiners don't read it too closely. In case I haven't written about this in the past, I should make it clear here, I HATE SCHOOL. GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!
GAA! GAA! GAA! GAA! And yes, that is the way I'll explain it once I'm Dr. Ross, too.

Dawson's Creek sucks ass

So since writing about Joshua Jackson and Chad M. M., I thought I'd tune in to Dawson's Creek to see when they were going to get to Chad's plotline. Which by the way, is a really bad plot line because it involves Joey singing in a band and seriously, WTF? Katie Holmes a) cannot sing (did they not remember her attempt to croak out "On My Own" in a sing-talk, off-key fiasco during the beauty pageant episode) and b) has none of the charisma of a band member.

Anyway, I digress. The point is I watched 1.5 episodes and it sucked so hard. The first episode involved the gang catering a wedding with Joey's dad as chef. After the dinner was over, all the little Creekers hit the dance floor, in their catering uniforms. Hello??? Waitstaff do not dance at weddings. I have both worked for a catering company at weddings and have been married. First of all, trust me, if you're staff you're still busy after dinner is over. And then you're tired. Plus, you're not a moron so you don't assume the bride and groom would like to party with you, whom they've never met before and even now only know you as the bringer of food and champagne. Second of all, if the staff had decided to join in the dancing at my wedding, I would have been so pissed off. It's a formal affair that costs thousands and thousands of dollars, not a chance for staff to make-out on the dance floor. Seriously, Dawson's kids. Boundaries.

Then I watched the episode where Andie starts to hallucinate that her dead brother is around. While this episode has some very good sensitive Pacey moments (mmmm....), it is the worst written episode ever. First of all, Andie calls her brother Tim, "Brown." To me, this is a "strategic" plot device which allows Andie to talk to her hallucination and Pacey to overhear from another room and not realize she's talking to Tim. But the reason they give is sooooo poorly crafted. Apparently, when Andie was little she couldn't pronounce Timothy so she called him Brown instead because brown is her favourite colour. Um, what? First of all, what little kid finds brown easier to say than Tim? Seriously, the br sound is hard for little mouths. So that's just crap. Secondly, I do not know a 2 year old girl out there whose favourite colour is brown. Purple, red, blue, pink, yellow. These are all colours children love. Brown? Seriously, he had brown eyes and hair, couldn't that have been why? Or how about that he always wore brown because it was his favourite colour? That would make more sense. Especially since we rarely see Andie wear brown, which is unusual since it is her favourite colour and all. So frickin' dumb.

Then to make matters worse, they provide very lame explanations of her mental health disorder and have her taking only moderately appropriate medication. Apparently Andie's problem is much like her mother's - after Tim's death she repressed her grief so much that her subconscious produced a Tim hallucination for her to talk to. Hmmm. Yeah, in my circles we call that a psychoanalytic conjecture, not a diagnosis. The diagnosis would be Major Depression with Psychotic Features. For which apparently, Andie takes an anti-anxiety drug. I guess we're supposed to think that anxiety brings on the hallucinations? Which it does in real life sometimes but it seems like her major problems are going untreated. That's some good psychiatric care she's getting.

Plus, I hate Dawson sooooooooo much. I hate James Vanderbeek and I hate the character of Dawson. That show would be so much better without him. Seriously. Really, they could have kept Michelle Williams and Joshua Jackson and just let everyone else go. That includes you, Katie Holmes, with your crazy couch-jumping boyfriend and your inability to wear a bra that fits properly!

Joshua and Chad part 2

So I was talking to Mark and telling him about my post and how Joshua Jackson has 3 new movies coming out and I daydreamed aloud "Imagine if Lucas and Pacey were in a movie together?" And he said, "What, Queer as Folk?" and I said, "Don't joke. That would be the hottest thing EVAR!" Especially if it was first season QAF when Justin and Brian were first hooking up and Michael was jealous so there was lots of tension. After that, the B& J sex wasn't as hot and Michael got some very ugly boyfriends.

Anyway, the point is, it would be really hot. Til then I'll just have to settle for old reruns of Dawson's Creek when Joey is dating Charlie. Do Pacey and Charlie even really share screen time during those episodes? Maybe he punches him or something. Man, it's going to be a long wait before that happens considering they're just showing the first season on TBS. I swear, these celeb crushes - so hard on a girl!

Joshua and Chad... ahhhhhhhh.

So as some of you may know, I have, on rare occasions, developed mad celebrity crushes. Until now, the only real enduring celebrity crush I have had has been on Joshua Jackson - Pacey from Dawson's Creek. This crush has led me to watch reruns of this show incessantly (so many lost mornings!) as well as continually tuning in to anything where he makes a brief appearance (i.e. Ocean's 11). It has also led me to read too many magazine interviews with him which in turn led me to believe that he was a "good person." Plus, he's Canadian. We got to stick together, after all. Anyway, in the interviews he comes across as intelligent, caring, humourous, sensitive, all that good stuff. And then on the show, you can just tell by the way he interacts with people that he is all of those things too. The way he hugs Joey, with a casual tenderness of someone who doesn't have to make an effort to show affection, oh my! Seriously, I'm not kidding here. In love with Joshua Jackson. Had one too many imaginary "conversations" with that one.

Here and there I discover others who harbour secret love for Josh. The writers of Television Without Pity delighted me with their discussion about the season finale in which "new, responsible" Pacey was super hot! And I recently discovered a girlfriend of mine is also much enamoured of Mr. Jackson. I am not alone in my crush madness! Hurrah!

But alas, recently a new celebrity love has come into my life and threatened me again with madness. However, this one is much more embarrassing. Chad Michael Murray. I just picture me and a thousand 14 year old girls watching the show obsessing about him. There is some justification though. He is undeniably cute. I'm totally hooked on One Tree Hill and desperately waiting for him to hook up with Brooke. It's been infuriating tracking that show over all of its time changes this year. But anyway, I'm in love with Chad M.M. for all the reasons I'm in love with Joshua Jackson. He seems to be sensitive and caring and intelligent. Again, casually tender (bestill my heart!). I was overjoyed to see him on reruns of Gilmore Girls. I even watched the Cinderella movie that has Hillary Duff in it, I'm that far gone.

So today I went on-line to see how old he is and how creepy my crush actually is. Joshua Jackson, after all, is only 2 years my junior. Perfectly respectable. Plus, he's a Gemini like me, which means we would get along famously. Chad M.M., is a less respectable 5 years younger than me (an 80's baby - gack!) but in these days of Ashton and Demi, not totally absurd. He's a Virgo though, we're less of a match that way. But I digress because the real point is that visiting these websites made me love him even more because 1) he was bullied as a young teen to the point where he got his front teeth knocked out. You see he needs protection and emotional healing plus he is better able to understand the emotional suffering of others and 2) when asked what tv character he most related to he said PACEY!! You see? You see???? He really is a perfect target for my celebrity crushes. Oh Pacey and Lucas. Joshua and Chad.

The only downside for Chad M. M. is that his name is Chad. People rag on him for using three names but I would if I were him too. It draws the attention away from Chad when you pair it with Michael. Plus, he has his initials tattooed on his arm. I've never really understood people who tattoo their own names on themselves. But hey, a girl can overlook a few things for the man she loves.

I can feel it coming!

Today was glorious. About 26 degrees, blue sky, cool breeze. I took Buddy for a long walk in the park and actually felt no resentment about it. So wonderful to walk without risking heatstroke. In the shade, with the breeze it was positively cool. And in case that wasn't good enough, one of the maple trees in the park has started to turn and has actually dropped leaves. Fall is just around the corner!! I saw that and my heart gave little leap of delight! I love the fall. Luh-uh-uve the fall. It's my very favourite time of year. This summer has been so stanky and nasty, I can't wait. Woo hoo!

I know this is a lame blog but it's been a long day. Take it or leave it, suckas!

Free adoptions at THS!

Hey all! Well, in my continuing quest to save little doggies from the mean streets and noisy shelters of Toronto I wanted to let you know that the Toronto Humane Society is waiving all adoption fees, I believe until the end of August. And for a change, they have lots of nice dogs, not just pitbulls. They have some labs, golden retrievers, beagles, and little dogs (min pin, maltese). This one here is my favourite. His name is Charlie. He's a two-year-old spaniel retriever mix. He's the winner in my opinion. So hie thee to 11 River Street and adopt a doggie. They're just little creatures who need some love after all.

Ads that piss me off #5: iPod

So I'm sure you've all seen the iPod campaign on tv or in print. Silhouettes of people grooving to their iPod's with the iPod's in white and various bold colours in the background. In general, I have nothing against this campaign and have even enjoyed it. Until now. This is the latest ad on the streetcar platform near my new work. Silhouettes of people with various aspects of their clothing in colour. In blue, I think it was the line of his jacket zipper and his collar, in pink, the straps of her shirt or backpack or something, in green the pockets on his hoodie. In yellow, a giant fucking striped bee-on-acid bikini top. WTF? All of the other panels have subtle and small bits of colour and then WHAM!
BOOBS!
Seriously, what? And I like how they chose the yellow panel - the colour that would contrast most against the black to make the biggest boob impact possible.

I don't have to tell you why this irritates me (not that that will stop me). Blatant use of female as sexual object to sell product. Until they show one with a guy with a day-glo orange crotch, it's just another sexist piece of crap. And even in that case, it would still be lame. It's boring. Do you hear me Apple. BORING!! I am sick of seeing advertisers use cheap and tired sexual titillation because they don't have the creativity or the motivation to come up with something truly original. I dream of the day when clever, appropriate ads that enhance our society and bring a smile to our faces will fill our city's landscape. Alas, it just seems to get further away every day.

I think I need to move to an eco-community. I'm not joking. This urban living is bullshit. Even more in this city where every conceivable surface is fair game for advertising and city council seems to see no problems with that. Gak. Arrrrrgh. Bluuuuuurk. Mfffffkt! I'm losing the capacity for speech I am so annoyed. Anyway, you've heard the rant before, I'll spare you. But seriously, try harder Apple. I'm an iPod owner. Don't make me sorry with your crap ads.

Lounging Buddy

Here is the latest picture of our little fur-baby as he lounges on the couch, post-walk, with mommy. As you can see, he feels no compunction about making himself comfortable. Nor do we seem to impose any limits on his comfort! :)

For those of you who are familiar with our long list of alternative names for our sweet doggie, there are a few more to add to the list:

Buddy Las Vegas (preferably sung to the tune of Viva Las Vegas)
Little Chuffer (because he makes a chuffing sound at us when he's annoyed)
Little boss man (because he thinks he's the boss, but he's not)
Mr. Bossy Pants (see above)
Little pachyderm (for when he hangs his head and lumbers like an elephant)
The great white hunter (the squirrels know why)
Spaz (should be self-explanatory)
Little man

But lest you think that we are the only ones to engage in such silly antics, in the summer issue of City Dog (free at the pet store - I didn't subscribe!!), there is a wonderful story on city dogs vs. country dogs in which the author, Dee Clair, reveals that her chocolate lab's (Newman) formal name is "Whiskeycreek's Whimsical Fellow His Royal Highness Sir Smarty Pants the Honorable Chocolatey Prince of the World and Everything in It." Now that's a name!

Stupid people ruin everything

So as some of you may know, I am a member of a group called Freecycle and also one called Freesharing. In both, you take things you don't want anymore and you pass them on to others for free. I must say, until now I have greatly enjoyed my involvement with this group and am even volunteering to represent them at an environmental fair. They do good work. But yesterday I had a very upsetting Freecycling experience that makes me want to chuck the whole thing.

So in these groups, people often say when they "spot" things on the curbside that look pretty good. In one of the groups, these "spotted" announcements are no longer allowed and the moderator suggested that if you see something good you actually pick it up yourself and then freecycle it. So yesterday I was walking Buddy and I saw a double stroller on the curb. I checked it out, thought it looked in good shape and wheeled it home and posted it. I explained where I found it, what kind of shape it was in, etc. I got several requests for it but I also got a few emails from people who thought I had acted irresponsibly.

One person chastised me for picking up baby-related items, suggesting that there might be a reason it was on the curb and it might be dangerous. Well, duh. Of course there is a risk. I would assume that anyone who wanted it would carefully test it out and check online for recalls and safety standards before using it. I myself just picked up a crib and you can bet your ass I'm going to check it thoroughly before deciding if I want to use it. I had assumed that other people would do the same. You know, take responsibility for themselves. It's the same as buying things at a garage sale, or goodwill. Buyer beware. But this person got me paranoid that this was too much to expect. It makes me sad that something good like Freecycle turns litigious so quickly. It ruins it, makes you fearful to participate, makes others feel like they don't have to make the time and effort to be safe and responsible.

Another person emailed suggesting it was actually illegal to take things from the curbside and that once they had been set out, they belonged to the City of Toronto. That one just made me laugh. First of all, nothing in this city lasts more than a few days on the curb unless it's TRASH. I only picked up the stroller because it was garbage day and I didn't want it to be landfill. So even if it's illegal, it's so frickin common. Secondly, I would almost like the City to bust me. In a city that has to ship its trash to the States and where the cost of city work and maintenance is astronomical, I would like to see them get on my ass for curbside reusing. I'd take that to the media so damn fast. There would be so much backlash against the city. Anyway, that person made me even madder than the first one because seriously, WTF?? Talk about encouraging fear, paranoia, and going against what I understand the Freecycling movement to be about.

Anyway, I was really upset last night and cried for a while. You know when you think you've done something really good and then people tell you it was a mistake and you feel stupid for being excited and proud of yourself? I felt like that. My husband told me that I should leave Freecycle, that it wasn't worth it if it was going to make me feel so bad. But I'm going to stick it out. I still think it's a good movement. But I probably will avoid baby items (which is a shame because people need them desperately) and will be a little less enthusiastic about the process from now on. Stupid people. They ruin everything with their stupidity.

Vive la tour!

So my husband is a huge Tour de France fan and so for the last few summers I have been watching the tour for 2-3 hours a day for THREE WEEKS. One summer he even tried to watch it twice a day (they show it in the morning and then repeat it at night) but I had to put my foot down about that. Anyway, though I am not the hugest cycling fan in the world, the tour is pretty interesting. Three weeks is a bit much for me but I do enjoy it some days. There's lots of little things to know and appreciate about the tour. But the one thing that drives me crazy every day of every race is the stupid frickin' crowds.

I posted a pic that I think is of last year's tour to give you a sense of what the crowds are like in the mountain stages. They quite literally stand so that they fill the whole street and draw back just enough to let the riders through. And once they pass, the crowd flows back in to the whole street. There is usually a little motorbike in front of the riders that serves to partially break the crowd but at the thickest points, fans just flow back in after the motorbike has passed. At other parts where the streets are little more open, fans will jump in front of the riders, wave and scream and then jump back at the last possible second. Others will run beside the riders waving huge flags at them and shouting. It makes me cringe - I'm always just waiting for a breeze to send the flag right into the wheels of the bike. They also pat them on the backs (which is illegal and can actually result in the riding getting a penalty if it looks like the fan pushed them), pour water on them and offer them water bottles. So of the not so nice fans also spit on them (WTF with that????) and call them names.

Anyway, this is a big part of the tour and since it's 200 K long a day, they can't really enforce crowd control. But it drives me nuts. Every single day I'm shouting at the tv "Get out of the way!!" I often resort to profanity. I mean, these cyclists have been riding uphill for 5 hours. Do you really think they want to have to weave among drunken or idiotic fans who can't get off the road fast enough?? And several times over the history of the tour, people haven't gotten out of the way fast enough and have caused riders to crash. Piss off!

Well, today was a treat for people like me. It was the tour's hardest mountain stage and the biggest crowd ever turned out. It was twice as thick as that pictured above - people were literally inches away from the riders on all sides. Anyway, there were a couple riders up in the lead and this guy jumped out to shout at them. I think he was running with them and then fell off the pace and stopped. In the middle of the road. There were more riders coming up shortly behind him led by a motorcycle (they carry guys on cameras who get all the crowd shots). The guy wasn't moving and he was threatening the safety of the cyclists behind and the integrity of the race so the motorcycle ran him over!! In fairness, there was absolutely nowhere for the motorcycle to go - it was surrounded by people on all sides, it couldn't have even swerved. It was awesome! It just hit him straight on. Of course the riders fell of the motorbike and the fan went down. But the cyclists were able to get through. Oh, it was brilliant. You might think I'm heartless but, dude, fans stay on the SIDES OF THE ROAD. If they're going to stand in the middle of the road during the tour, they deserve what they get.

WTF Award - No male birth control pills

So my husband and I are thinking about having a baby in the next year and I am debating when to go off the birth control pill. Now I know they say you only have to be off it for a month but since I have been on the pill since I was 14, I'd like to go off it my 4 or 5 months ahead of time and actually get to see what my body does on its own. Which of course leaves us with the alternative contraception dilemma. It seems easy except that I am allergic to latex. So we've got no pill, no patches, no shots, no condoms (we tried the non-latex ones - let's just say they're not good), no diaphragms, no cervical caps. IUD's are not recommended until after childbirth. So that leaves us with spermicide. We're going to give it a go via the Today's Sponge (he is spongeworthy! lol) but I have a bad feeling about this. Given that I am allergic to soap and moisturizing cream, what are the chances I'm not allergic to Nonoxonyl-9?

Which brings me to my WTF rant. Why have the drug companies not developed a birth control pill for men????? I mean, if you want to be safe, what makes more sense, wearing a bullet proof vest or taking the bullets out of the gun? Apparently they've been working on them for a while and they have none of the cancer or blot clot risks that female pills carry AND the contraceptive effect goes away immedidately upon cessation - NO risk to fertility. And yet, where are they? I read a couple of years ago in a magazine that we could expect them in 5-10 years. 5-10 years???? WTF? I also saw a news story last year about it where they polled men on the street and they all said they wouldn't take it. Stupid machismo. Yes, let your woman take the dangerous drugs instead of you taking the safe ones. It's just like the whole stupid vasectomy issue. Why not let your wife have invasive, non-reversible surgery just so you can keep your "virility." Stupid. It's just all part of a culture where the burden of childbearing (or the prevention thereof) falls entirely on the woman and men can decide whether or not they "feel ready" to take part.

And just in case you're wondering, I've already got my guy talked into the old snip when we're done having kids. I figure I've been on birth control pills for 15 years. And then, after going through painful, disfiguring, never-ending, pregnancy and labour 2 or 3 times, I'm signing out. Dude, after that I'll hold the ice pack on his groin and that's about all! :)

Look at this face!

So this is Chester. Chester is a 2.5 year old Dachshund / Terrier mix who is housebroken, neutered, and has all his shots. He's gentle and sweet and gets along with everyone. I mean look at him. Have you seen a cuter dog? Look at those silly, fluffy ears. Chester is available for adoption right now. He is currently fostered in a really good foster home, Anne and Pete's. You can see him on www.Petfinder.com. While you're there, also check out Willy the springer spaniel and Charlie the Golden Retriever/Cocker Spaniel mix. I'm telling you, if we could have more dogs, we'd be getting Buddy three brothers with this lot.

So if you know anyone who's looking for a dog, check these guys out.

On a related note, after being seduced by the clever marketing campaign, I bought some Iams Savoury Sauce for Buddy. It's a vitamin-filled gravy you add to your dog's food to make it extra, well, savoury. So I was so excited. I poured it on his food this morning, set it down in front of him and waited to see the joy. There was no joy. He started to put his head in the bowl, caught a sniff of the sauce and looked up at me with a hurt, confused look. He then sniffed it again and looked at me again. He then very gingerly started to pick out individual pieces of kibble with the least amount of savoury sauce on them. This is a dog who usually eats anything you'll give him, including paper, oranges, and wax. After watching him pitifully and s-l-o-w-l-y consume five or six pieces of kibble, I gave him a fresh bowl with no savoury sauce. Which he gulped down. So much for savory! Stupid enticing commerical. I'm just glad I didn't by the three-flavour multi-pack!

Get off the frickin' sidewalk!

So, I have two pet peeves related to sidewalk use. Well, I say pet peeves but they're more like massive annoyances that make me want to punch people in the head. Of course, being me who dislikes confrontation, I usually contain myself to the dirty look and the half-turned head as they pass me by (you know that one - Seinfeld demonstrated it beautifully in the movie theatre). Anyway, my grievances are these: 1) people who are over the age of 12 who ride their bikes on the sidewalk and 2) people who use golf umbrellas as personal umbrellas on the sidewalk.

So first the bikes. Okay, I get that Toronto is a scary place to ride a bike. Traffic is crazy, pedestrians appear out of nowhere. But I'm not talking about Yonge Street. I'm talking about High Park where the streets are super wide and there is hardly any traffic. Today I was out walking my dog and some jerk in his thirties is riding up the sidewalk. There is not a single car on the road but instead of going on to the road to let me pass, I had to pull up Buddy tight against me and press against a shrub for him to go by. Ugh. I'm still getting mad thinking about it now. Frickin asshole.

And then, the umbrellas. WTF with business men who just whip their golf umbrella out of their car trunks and proceed to walk down very crowded sidewalks on streets like Bloor or Yonge? They piss me off. They don't look where they're going. They don't raise the umbrella as they pass by so it doesn't bean me in the forehead. They just take up the whole frickin' sidewalk like the frickin' jerks they are. Stupid entitled asses. There's a reason they make golf umbrellas and personal umbrellas. Golf umbrellas are for golf courses. Personal umbrellas are for everywhere else. And I feel I have to say, I have never seen a woman with a golf umbrella on the sidewalk, unless she was with a man. More gendered behaviour, IMO - women don't dare inconvenience others by taking up space where as men just take it all on and don't even think about the fact that they are invading everyone else's space with their ridiculous umbrellas. Now I realize this is a vast generalization and that many men are considerate and understand proper umbrella use. But I'm still waiting to see a woman with a golf umbrella on Bloor Street.

Ugh, people. Use sidewalks with just an ounce of thought! Or one of these days you might find your self at the business end of a withering stare from yours truly. And you do not want that. Trust me. I stare real good.

Stickin' it to the exes

So, here's a guilty secret of mine. I love finding out that my ex-boyfriends' lives suck now. I know it's petty and mean-spirited but it's great. I mean, to hear through the grapevine that they are out of work, living with their parents, repeatedly dumped by girls who treated them badly, dropped out of school, these things warm my heart. Of course, this is true for some boys more than others. Especially the ones who treated me crappy and thought I'd always be there. To them I say ha! I am very happily married to a good-looking, smart, funny, caring man, I'm doing my Ph.D., I have a great apartment, a fabby doggy and we're thinking about babies in the next year or so. My life is so good. And theirs are not. And it makes me happy, happy, happy. In fact, I think I'll do a little happy dance right now (and hope that the karma gods don't read this post!). :)

Freecycling is cool

So I was recently turned on to the phenomenon of freecycling and have to spread the word. It's basically a movement that developed in the last few years with the goal of keeping things out of landfill while developing a sense of community and fighting consumerism. It works like a listserv. If you have something lying around your house that you don't want anymore, you post the group and offer it to anyone who would like it. Then people email you to ask for it. You get to pick who you want to give it to. You pick the person, let them know, and then they come pick it up at your convenience. The group stresses that this is a gift that you are giving someone and it's up to you who you want to give it to. You can give it to the person whose email was funniest, shortest, first, 17th, or whatever you want. They take the stance that no one is more deserving than the next person and to just have fun with it. You can also request items that you need and see if anyone is willing to pony up.

So I joined a few days ago and today I had my first freecycling experience. I offered a bunch of dog things that Buddy totally ignores and has never used. I had seven responses in one day and picked the one that I liked best. The person I picked, Marjorie, came to get the things today and was super nice and I felt really good about giving her the stuff. I also answered a plea for some curtains by offering up an old IKEA panel that's moved with me five times but hasn't been used in three years.

Anyway, I dig things that are environmental and I dig things that are community building so I'm all down with freecycling. If you are interested you can go to www.freecycle.org or to www.freesharing.org and find out where there are groups in your area. It's free to join - the only thing they ask is that you offer something up for freecycling before you ask for things and that you always been polite. Check it out. It's super cool.

Freecycle! Yay!

Mr. Pants

So here is a recent picture of my dog, Buddy, doing the "I can't believe you're on the computer when you could be playing with me" look - a mix of self-pity, boredom, and resignation. My dog is not the best trained dog in the world. We have been very lazy with his training because he is naturally quite well behaved. He's a sweet boy.

When we first got him from the rescue agency, they were calling him Pong (he had a brother, Ping). These were names they gave them - they were found as strays. We didn't like Pong. Mark wanted to call him Chilly (well, he wanted Chili, but I insisted it be Chilly) but after a couple days, it just didn't seem to fit. So it was between Tucker and Buddy and Buddy won out. And he's responded really well to it.

Despite the fact that he is Buddy, here is a list of the many other names we (well, mostly me) call him:

Bud
Budman
Budster
Fussy Britches (he has fluffy, bushy back legs and a twitchy walk)
Sir Budworth Fussington III
Sir Budworth Fussington of the Shire
Sir Fuss-a-lot
Mr. Man
Mr. Moo
Mr. Pants
Mr. Mister
Mr. Aliwister
Poops
Poopers
Pooper-scooper
Magoo
Mongrel
Mugwump
Doggin
Woggin
Baby boy
Sweetie
You
Crazy dog
Silly dog
My little guy
All natural white pistachio nut (this would be his show name if he weren't a mutt)
Sneezer
Cutie

And I think there's probably a few more. It's all just gibberish to him of course. He'll come to anyone who says "So-and-so, come!" in the right voice. We discovered this a few weeks ago at the cottage when my sister was calling her cat and Buddy kept running over. We eventually had to hold him back so that the cat could get to his food dish without Buddy running all over. Ah, dogs. You gotta love 'em.

I'm not laughing because misogyny isn't funny

So, as I'm sure you know, feminists are often accused of being humourless. And let's face it, sometimes we are. Reading feminist literature or discussing feminist issues typically involves feeling somewhat bogged down by the hopelessness of the situation and feeling slightly helpless against the massive tidal wave that is global misogyny (don't believe me - think sex trade, think rape as a war crime, think the stoning of women for adultery while men go free, think honour killings, think wage disparity, think breast implants etc.). But there is a good reason why feminists often seem to lack humour - humour is often used as a catch-22 form of control over women and other groups. It goes like this - someone tells a sexist joke and either a) you don't say anything and the joke, which is derogatory and offensive, is passed off as acceptable rather than prejudiced or b) you say something and get accused of having no sense of humour, being "one of those" kind of women (you know, hysterical, feminist, lesbian, man-hating etc.), and of taking everything too seriously when it's "just a joke." It might be "just a joke" to the teller but humour that is degrading is just another form of sexism and it takes aim at women's sense of self worth and chips away at their power.

So why, do you ask, am I ranting about this? Alas, a family member who is otherwise fairly good about not getting tied up in gender role crap, shared a joke with me that I shall summarize for you here. Basically, it was sort of a fake ad, suggesting that men, if they have a nagging wife who wants them to do yardwork when there is a football game on, should consider surreptitiously shooting their wives with a tranquilizing blow dart to get out of it - she'll never know it was you, and you don't have to deal with her nagging. Such blow darts can also be useful to ensure the sanctity of poker night, golfing or other such activities that nagging, pesky, annoying wives are always getting in the way of.

Of course, I found this joke extremely offensive and tried to explain it. I'm not sure I made much impact. Of course, my relative claimed that he just shared it to "get me going." As if this is less offensive? "I am going to tell you a joke that attacks your value system and demeans you as a person because it is funny to watch you get worked up about it." Seriously not cool. To add salt to the wound, this joke was apparently picked up at his workplace which is largely male and very privileged. Which just goes to show that at the top of the corporate world, swapping such jokes over the water cooler is completely acceptable. I find this extremely disturbing.

I am also very pissed off at the joke. Shoot your wife with a blowdart because she's a nag? WTF? Violent imagery much? Vast devaluing of women as persons much? Don't like what she's saying, tranq her with a blowdart. I also HATE nagging wife jokes. Women are just sort of automatically put in charge of family life, even if they're also workers outside the home. They have to keep track of birthdays, buying the presents and the cards. They have to monitor the routines of the house - what needs fixing, what needs cleaning, what needs replacing when. They keep track of appointments, of meetings, of which friends and family members are visiting, sick, need help etc. They wash the sheets and towels, buy the toilet paper and the dishsoap. True, there are some households were the men fully and completely share in these household activities, but generally, even when men are helping out, the burden of keeping track of family and household falls disproportionately to the women.

And then men have the nerve to call them nags and to complain that their wives are on their backs. The nagging wife is such a demeaning stereotype. It takes a woman, who is voicing her needs and asking for help in meeting them, and reduces her to a whining shrew. It's just a tool for silencing. It calls up such bad imagery, who would want to be labeled a nag? It's a shaming word and again a catch-22. Either you reduce you're demands to avoid being called a nag or you speak your demands and are cast as unreasonable, demanding, and difficult. Either way, you end up not getting the help you need and somehow feeling bad about yourself and angry at your spouse. Not cool.

And of course, my relative didn't mean all of these things when he told me the joke but these were all the things I felt. It was really awkward for me because this is someone that I love very much, whose approval is important to me, and whom I am not all that comfortable criticizing in a serious manner. I was very upset for a while afterwards plus I was worried that I had offended him. That one little joke made me miserable for about four hours that night and it still makes me unhappy now. Even as I write this post, I feel angry about the joke but also worried about what he'll think if he reads it. It's a lot of shit to put a person through just to get a laugh.

And it's not that I don't have a sense of humour, it's that the joke isn't funny. Seriously, it's not funny. It's misogyny at work, whether he realized it or not. I would invite you, gentle readers, not to take part in that sort of humour, nor to stand idly by. Fight the good fight. Sexism comes in both large and small packages but it's all the same old shit.

You should adopt a dog - yes you!

So I love my dog, Buddy. He just rocks. We adopted him last August and it's been such an awesome experience. He makes me laugh almost every day. Today we went to dog park and he was digging a big hole and kept looking up at my with a nose full of dirt and a huge smile on his face. He is also the sheriff of dog park and runs around breaking up fights and barking at suspicious looking characters. We got him a new toy yesterday as he put one to rest at the cottage last week. It was a sad moment for me because the toy we retired was the first toy we ever bought for him. I'm such a revolting dog mom. Buddy is spoiled rotten and I love it. He's just too damn cute.

Which brings me to my point - everyone must go adopt dogs. Shelters are such miserable places and while foster homes are better, dogs need their special people and a forever home. Dogs are great - they are funny and silly and cuddly and get you outside and active and meeting people. They keep you warm in the winter too! Plus you can dress them up in little outfits, teach them tricks and show them off to your friends.

www.petfinder.com has dogs available all over North America - you just enter in your city. For those of you in the T.O. area, there are lots of wicked dogs available right now. If you like bigger dogs, do a regional search for the Toronto area and check out Luky, Samantha, and Luke. If you like smaller dogs, try Chico, Sunny, Tassel and Minnie. The dog in the picture is Jesse. He's available too! Go now, do it! Adopt a dog!!!!!! YEAH FOR DOGS (ESPECIALLY BUDDY)!!!!!!!!

Greetings from the cottage

Mark and I are at the cottage for a few days, taking a break from big city living. The cottage, which is my parents', is in Port Stanley on Lake Erie. It's awesome. Everytime we come here we daydream about staying forever.

It's been very eventful so far, especially for our dog Buddy. On our first day, he encountered no less than 2 snakes. He chased the first one through the brush on the hillside until it turned around and struck at him. At that point, he thought the best plan of attack was to bark at it from a safe distance several feet away. The second one he let go with only a few swipes of his paw, for show more than anything. Last night he encountered some bunnies, which definitely needed a good barking. He also took on Lake Erie. After being smacked twice with waves while trying to nip a quick drink, he began running along the shoreline barking at the lake. Go Buddy!

This morning we took Buddy for a walk and then laid in our lawnchairs until the sun got too hot and we had to move. This afternoon we're having barbeque for lunch - yum. And as a little icing on the cake, Mom and Dad have satellite television and I was able to watch One Tree Hill. I love that show and Global just dropped it with no warning. It was most exciting to see it again! And Mark has been able to take in many bike shows on Extreme TV.

Ah cottage living. A person could get used to this.

Oh, John Black, how can you see through that squinting eye?

So, I am sitting here at 8:56, waiting for the OC to finish. Why, do you ask? Because I have set my VCR to tape it and soon it will be over and I can rewind it and then I can watch it. I have to say, I am not very pleased with the OC lately. Not that it was ever a high-caliber show, but this last season, it really seems to have disintegrated into crap. As has Days of Our Lives. I have been watching Days for, let me count, 17 years. Holy shit, that's a long time. I have made some of my best friends at university sitting in the common room watching Days. I have inaugurated my husband into Days such that he can name most of the Bradys and does a mean John Black impression. I saw Hope die FOUR times (if it were real life, her kids would be soooo fucked up. Can you imagine if your mother died and came back from the dead FOUR times???). I saw Vivian Allemain roll around on top of the grave where she had buried someone alive. I saw Stefano fool the detectives of Salem by wearing sunglasses and a fake moustache (he truly is the master of disguise). I saw Marlena levitate above her bed and I saw Isabella morph into a demon.

Dude, I've seen it all. I stuck with that show through some lean, mean times. But now, it's so boring. It is so boring that I, a fan of 17 years, have been unable to stomach watching a full episode for over a year. I have such a relationship with the show, it's taken me a while to come to terms with how much it sucks. First, I stopped watching the show regularly. I would just read the daily synopsis on my website and decide if I wanted to tune in the next day. Then, I stopped tuning in at all and just read the synopsis. Then the daily synopsis (synopsis, synopsis, synopsis, I don't think I've ever written the word synopsis so many times before) became too boring so I just started reading the weekly, short-form synopsis. Now I occasionally read the spoilers.

I admit, though, I did tune in the other day. I saw in the grocery store that Roman and Marlena were about to escape the island where they've been held captive and reunite with John Black and Kate. Since John Black crying with joy is one of my favourite mocking points on Days (along with Marlena's $4 million gasp and Stefano being hit my lightening), I tuned in just for a good laugh. I was sorely disappointed when he did not cry with joy, instead staggering around slightly and opening and closing his mouth like a fish flopping around on the dock. He also had a walking stick with an eight ball on the top for a handle. I haven't been watching - I'm assuming it was a gift of significance from Kate - so I can't say for sure what the deal was but I thought it was crap. John Black would never carry an eight-ball walking stick. As if. He's too James Bond for that. That's more a Bo Brady thing. lol

Anyway, the show is shit. That's all. OC's over now so I'm off to watch!

WTF Award - the first recipient: THAILAND and the Metro

Okay, so as those of you who check in semi-regularly know, I keep track of "ads that piss me off" and share them with you guys titled as such. Well, yesterday I came across this in the Toronto Metro and since it wasn't technically an ad, I couldn't place it under ads that piss me off so I have instead created the "What the Fuck?" awards. They will be given to stories, occurrences, public displays that just baffle me with their immense stupidity, ignorance, etc.

So first up is this. In case you can't make out the caption, Thailand hold the "Miss IMF" contest - IMF short for I Am Fat - in which they find the woman who most resembles an elephant in "elegance, size, and grace." This is reportedly done to promote elephant conservation.

Now don't get me wrong, I don't have anything against saving the elephants. I just think it's very sad that at least some people in Thailand value elephants more than women. I mean, come on! Is there any way of looking at this that is not degrading and offensive? And WTF with the Metro running this as a humourous piece of amusing world news rather than recognizing it as sexist, fat-phobic bullshit?

Anyway, this is what I was reading in the paper as I traveled to my body image therapy group. Made me feel real good. Thanks Thailand. And thank you, too, Metro.

WTF Award recipient, May 2005.

Seriously though, WTF?

Behold TEAM FALCON!!

Our mighty mascot!

Jill and Kelly cross the finish line!

So this Sunday my sisters and I took part in the Bell Walk for Kids to help support Kids Help Phone. This is something that we just started doing in the last year. I am all about Kids Help Phone as I have learned through my work that many kids use it. Last year Kelly and I walked for the first time in the freezing rain, risking hypothermia in the name of charity! This year Jill joined us. And so did the sun (much, much nicer).

This year we were also officially a team - the Falcons. Our mascot is the brave and noble tiger, of course! Jill and Kelly made us wicked team t-shirts so we looked super snaz. Plus, our team was only for cool people and we were on it, so of course, we were cool!

The walk went well except that we got cheated out of mini-chocolate bars by hoards of children and their hard-core, line-butting parents who grabbed them by the boxful from the volunteers. This was difficult for Jill to make peace with but somehow she held on to her goodwill and finished the walk. Kelly had to fight extremely challenging conditions in the port-a-potty (note: port-a-potties at events with children, never a safe place to go). Me, I had to contend with the fact that very few people seemed to join me in my fever for the dance, although Kelly did an excellent job of boogie-ing down with me during the warm-up (see my sister's blog for pics www.everythingisaspoon.blogspot.com)

The walk only took two hours this year (ever walk 5 km at a snail's pace?) which was an improvement over last year when the rain seemed to dull the crowd's will to move, causing the walk to cross into 3 hour territory. Afterwards, we were treated to a gourment lunch of hot-dogs, goldfish crackers, and (finally!) little chocolate bars. Poor Kelly, who is on an cleansing program, could not partake in this rich bounty and had to satisfy herself with organic trail mix and herbal tea.

Apparently, the walk raised $600,000 in Toronto. And I won a t-shirt! Woo-hoo! However, shame on the Bell Walk people for not providing recycling containers on route when they handed out hundreds of plastic water bottles. Boooo for recyclables going in the trash (I recycled mine later - I'm so good).

Gooooooo Falcons!

Mom don't read this - I MEAN IT!! :)

So, for Mother's Day, my little sister, Kelly and I went together to get mom a present. Given that she and I share some grassroots-esque type leanings, we thought we'd get mom a "donation in your name" kind of gift. Heifer International gives animals to people in developing countries to provide them with both food and livelihood (www.heifer.org). So we thought that sounded good and got down to the serious business of picking which sort of animal to purchase. In our price range, the choices were chickens, geese, ducks and bees.

Well, as you may or may not know, I hate geese. This loathing has a two-fold origin. First, I grew up in London, Ontario and frequently went to a little place known as Storybook Gardens in Springbank Park. Storybook Gardens is a nursery-rhyme themed playground with slides and sculptures and a few animals (well, they said they had animals, you rarely actually saw them, but that's another post). ANYWAY, there was a concession stand in Storybook where you could get, among other things, snowcones and french fries. So, we often had fries for lunch while we were there. And also in Storybook Gardens and the park in general, there were Canada geese just walking around. A lot geese. And let me tell you, they understood french fries. As soon as you got your fries, you better believe they were there, trying to peck them out of your hands.
And when you're five and you're small and not that quick, it is a long trip from the concession stand to the picnic table. And even once you're there, they're there too waiting, honking, ruffling their feathers menacingly. Seriously, it was scary.

The same is true of the stupid geese at York University, where I studied for one year before I got the hell out and went to U of T. My residence was right beside a nice pond where I and my friend (now my husband) used to like to go. But try to sit there and have a nice lunch in the sunshine. First, goose shit everywhere. Second, the geese would attack white styrofoam containers and brown paper bags. They had figured that shit out, let me tell you. Sometimes I used to leave by paper bag out as a decoy to try and distract them while I ate my actual food. Ah, the taxing work of Fine Arts undergrad at York - trying to outsmart geese.

So long story long, Kelly and I didn't want to buy geese. We also didn't want to buy chickens, because, well, they're ugly. Which left us with ducks and bees. Kelly however, was quite concerned that bees might be a handful for the first-time beekeeper. She had fears of vast stingings about the face and arms for our hapless recipients, not to mention the possibility of allergic reactions with no epi-pen in sight. We investigated a little more and discovered that basic training was provided along with the bees which waylaid her fears somewhat. What was unclear, however, was whether protective gear was part of the deal. The description said they would receive a hive and box but it said nothing about face guards (you know the beekeeping hat with the mesh face) and gloves. There were two pictures of happy recipients, one with a hat and no gloves, the other with gloves but no hat. This filled Kelly with a feeling of foreboding. Not wishing to condemn our poor recipient to a life of stings and fevered bouts of potentially fatal allergic reactions, we decided to go with the ducks. The website said they could be used for eggs or meat and that their poo makes good fertilizer. Plus it had pictures of fluffy little ducklings (not the one posted above, I took that at Humber Bay Park last spring). Who doesn't love ducklings? Really!

Sidenote: according to the spell check, there are no such words as "beekeeper" and "ducklings." Hmmm.

The Rot sets in....

I have wrinkles. There is absolutely no denying it any longer. For a while, I had the kind of wrinkles around my eyes that went away after a good night's sleep and across my forehead that went away once exams were done. And then after a while, they stopped going away. And I told myself "It's just that I haven't been getting enough sleep. I'm so run down and stressed all the time." But you know what? It's not true. No matter how much I sleep or what blissful zen state I enter, I still have wrinkles. And not only can you see them, you can feel them. Right now, I can feel little creases around my eyes.

This, I believe, is all part of a process that I like to call the Rot. Now I know, it's the age of the modern woman, and as a feminist, I'm supposed to embrace aging but whatever. I have an intense fear of aging and of death. On my FOURTEENTH birthday, I was sad to be getting older. And every year since has been the same. And here is what I have learned about the aging process - it's all downhill after 25. Now that is an average. Certain elements you can push up to 30 or so but basically 25 is it. Don't get me wrong. I know that life has many joys in the later years and that people complete staggering feats of intelligence, creativity, and strength after the age of 30. I'm just talking pure physiology and cellular processes. That's what starts to decline after 25. After that skin starts to lose its natural elasticity, fertility declines, your cognitive processes are less efficient, you capacity to absorb new information shifts downward, your flexibility reduces, your muscle mass reduces.

Of course, many of these processes can be slowed, prevented etc. but after 25 you can't just do nothing and keep improving. You have to actively prevent the decaying process. Yes, decaying. What else do you call the slow decline of your body's cells? This, my friends, is the Rot. Rotting on the bone for the rest of our years.

So what to do? I need botox. Seriously. I can't use all those anti-wrinkle creams because my skin still breaks out if I put anything but Noxema on it. So unfair - acne and wrinkles all at the same time! And I don't care what any product claims - I have never found a moisturizer that didn't make me 1) super oily looking or 2) break out. That's it. I mean, not only do I not moisturize but I put super drying creams on my face every night. Honestly, I'm just screwed. It's so sad to get to the stage where you can look back on pictures of yourself when you actually looked younger and better. It's also sad to know that I have now looked as good as I will ever look. So depressing. Stupid Rot. And I do need botox - I am constantly stressed and my forehead is wrinkled a good 65% of the day because of it. Even right now, the computer monitor makes me squint a little. I have to consciously relax my forehead. As soon as I start thinking about something else, it will wrinkle back up again. Ugh.

Ha, my dog is dreaming beside me. His paws are all twitching rapidly and he's kind of snorting - must be barking at squirrels in his dreams. I love my dog.

Rabbit holes and coloured pills - wtf with feminism?

Okay, here is the problem with feminism and feminist psychology. They're depressing as hell. It's no wonder feminists get a bad rap. They're either fucking with a power system that others are benefiting from or they're offering the oppressed and downtrodden bleak world views. Don't get me wrong. I'm a feminist. I think I'm far enough down the pathway that there's no turning back. I mean, you can't unknow what you know. Once you've opened your eyes, closing them again doesn't mean you didn't see what you saw. It's just every now and then, I miss my old way of living in the world. It was a nice, peaceful, ignorantly entitled way of viewing things. Sort of the like the Matrix, with the whole red pill/blue pill thing or whatever it was. I sometimes feel like I picked the wrong pill.

But, be that as it may, feminism is rarely boring. And it does give me some place to direct all my irritation at modern society. And it dovetails nicely with lots of other political issues. But it sucks the joy out of things. Bleak, bleak, bleak.

Ah, the joys of the dissertation process. I think it's starting to get to me.... lol

Ads that piss me off - #5: Calvin Klein Kiddie Porn

I girlfriend of mine sent this image to me after a morning of outrage riding the rails and staring at it. I had also been seeing it everywhere and feeling quite irked but also somewhat amused at how little creativity is in the CK department. I mean, for the last ten years, have they shown anything in their ads besides underage teens in their underwear? Not to mention that one of their recent lines of lingerie has drawings of underage girls in their underwear as the pattern on the underwear. Cause that's exactly what I want on my underwear. WTF? Seriously.

But seriously, look at this ad. First of all, how old is this girl. Look closely at her face. To me, she looks about 14 or 15. Second, look at the size of her. What is with Calvin Klein and the starved models. It's like the advertising heads have mounted a campaign for well over a decade now which promotes weightism, ageism, racism, and sexism. Way to go, Calvin Klein. And really, can someone tell me how to differentiate this from kiddie porn? Some days I find the complete lack of corporate ethics so sickening. And it always makes me feel so powerless.

It's interesting, you know, when you think about it. I feel like I have so little power. For financial and environmental reasons, I usually take the TTC around Toronto. So I pay $2 a ride with tokens or almost $100 a month on a pass. I am forced to view ads which I find offensive and demeaning. When I complain about these ads, I only receive a standard response (not everyone likes all of the advertising we display, we will forward your concerns to the department which selects out ads, blah, blah, blah). I've never had a complaint I've made to a company responded to and for ads like stupid Julie's Story, you have to spend hours online just to find out what company is behind it. So basically, you just feel like you're trapped on the subway with no way to fight back (especially since I'm too chicken to be a good culture jammer and write all over the posters). I suppose I could drive more, but then I would be forced to look at these ads as they line the streets on bus shelters and billboards. It's like you just can't turn it off. And being at a university, I have ads in the elevators, ads in the bathroom stalls, ads in the libraries. I just can't take urban living. It just grinds down the soul.

CK sucks ass. Stupid Calvin "Kiddie Porn" Klein. Fuck.

Harry Potter and the Evils of Procrastination

Well, it's been a long, long time since I have posted and I offer my apologies. I have been procrastinating on a paper by reading the Harry Potter books over again and now I am overcome with Harry fever! I can't wait for the sixth book. Apparently, there is all sorts of good back story on Snape and why Dumbledore trusts him and on James and Lily. Something huge about Lily is revealed in the sixth or seventh book. Who knows? There are websites all over where they try and figure everything out but I haven't been reading them too closely. I don't really want to know anything ahead or figure anything out. I will say though that there are people out there who take it waaaay too seriously.

Anyway, I've posted a pic from the fourth movie, which I am also excited about. I love Rupert Grint (Ron). He just cracks me up with his great face. And I love his long shaggy hair in the 4th movie. Above is a scene from Yule Ball when he's in his second hand "dress robes." Too funny.
I'm excited about this movie as Goblet of Fire is one of my favourites in the series (I think Philosopher's Stone is my very fav though - it's just such a good beginning!). There's a LOT to pack into this movie though and I'm not sure how successfully they'll be able to do it. I found that was already a problem with Prisoner of Azkaban - the character development and flow of the film really suffered in the attempt to cram all of the critical plot elements in. I also strongly disliked the new Dumbledore. Dumbledore had been played by Richard Harris who I thought gave an excellent portrayal of age and wisdom with the lighthearted slyness and the quiet empathy that make him such a great character in the book. Unfortunately RH passed away and was replaced by Michael Gambon who I don't like at all. He has none of the warmth or understatedness that I associated with Dumbledore. I can only hope he'll do a better job in GoF than he did in PoA.

Anyway, for those of you who are similarly obsessed with HP, I suggest checking out www.mugglenet.com for more info on the movie and the book.


Funny Ron!

Media responsibility

Well, I just finished watching a tape of Sheena's Place (www.sheenasplace.org) annual forum on eating disorder prevention and I'm all riled up. A series of panelists presented on different programs aimed at preventing eating disorders and promoting balanced health. Every single one of them talked about media literacy as a crucial element in health promotion. And it got me thinking, given the overwhelming amount of evidence that exists indicating that media and advertising is detrimental to our well-being, why are there so few checks on what is allowable and so few incentives for supplying more positive, health-promoting media? For those of you who think that all this talk about the dangers of media are crap, I would advise you dig a little. Consuming various forms of media has been linked with lower self-esteem, increased depression, increased body dissatisfaction, desensitization to violence (physical, verbal, sexual), increased feelings of fear and insecurity in the community - the list goes on and on.

Now I know some of you are bristling and saying "Freedom of speech! If we start the censorship process, it's just a slippery slope towards 1984." And I agree with you. It is crucial that there are uncensored outlets for discussion, debate, and disagreement. But I'm talking about corporate responsibility and the responsibility that we have as a society to protect each other from things that are clearly damaging. The truth is, it's not so much about what's removing what's out there (though I would be happier if stupid Julie's Story would just disappear). It's more about increasing the amount of alternatives available. It drives me nuts to hear health professionals talk about the need for media literacy, to see study after study show the harms of media exposure and then to see things only escalate in terms of the blatant use of sexuality to sell product, the objectification of women in advertising, music videos, and well, pretty much everything, the use of violence, especially sexual violence, to add "spice" to tv shows, and the complete lack of diversity in most of the dominant media. We focus so much on how to help children (and adults) deal with the messages coming in and do very little to provide other sorts of messages.

The other thing I would challenge you to think about when it comes to censorship and the media is the fact that we, as in we the lowly consumers, are already largely censored by lack of access. Only those with the cash get to be heard. How much would it cost an individual to run a full page ad in the Toronto Star? How about to put a poster in a subway? How about to run a campaign with newspaper, radio, and television ads? Most companies have large advertising budgets and so the images they choose are everywhere. We have little say about what we are forced to look at as we walk down the street or ride the subway. Occasionally complaints will bring action - I once complained that Chapters had an extremely explicit selection of manga directly in the path of the entrance to the children's section. I'm all for manga but I don't think pictures of women tied up in chains and wearing straps of leather are appropriate for 5 year olds. They moved the display. It was good. But face it, most of the time, complaints fall on deaf ears and nothing changes unless there is MASS public outcry.

Which is what I dig about weblogs - free access. You only need a very little technical know-how and access to a computer, which most people can get at a library or community centre. It's also what I dig about culture jamming. It might just look like graffiti but at least it's a way to interact and to strike back at the images that strike at us. Of course, it's illegal which is interesting. I can be forced to look at ads that are damaging to my self-esteem and increase my feelings of depression (it's not like I can walk down the street with my eyes closed) but I am not allowed to do anything to remove, disrupt, or even slightly mar those ads. The whole thing makes me feel very, very angry and very, very powerless. It's so discouraging, the power of the corporation versus the power of the individual. Grrr, it's enough to make me want to live off the grid. Solutions anyone?

More tales from the couch

So, I am once again hunting for a new therapist after parting ways with my current therapist earlier this week. She just never really warmed up. Plus she managed to create a vibe like I was kind of intruding on her life rather than creating a nice therapeutic space. Her half-read personal books stacked up beside the chair, her too loud classical music playing in the background. The fact that at least 5 minutes of every 50 minute session I was paying for was spent making tea for herself. Not to mention that on her bookshelf were hundreds of books, not one of which was even remotely related to psychology.

When I told her I didn't think we were a very good fit, she seemed quite unconcerned, which in itself isn't a big deal. I actually prefer it that way because it's always a very awkward conversation when you are essentially firing someone. But still, she didn't offer me referrals (which ethically she probably should have) or inquire after my concerns. I don't know.

Spring has to come eventually... right?

I've been feeling lately like this stupid winter is never going to end. And generally speaking I like winter. There have been many lovely, sunny winter days with fresh white snow and crisp blue skies. But it's enough already. And so to remind myself that eventually spring does come, I put up a few pictures I took last spring in High Park.

spring 1 

spring 

Ads that piss me off - #4: Julie's Story (again)

Ah, Julie. Again you grace my life with your message of insecurity, self-loathing, and narrow definitions of beauty. In case you can't make out the text it says "I am Julie. Today I shopped for everything I liked, not just anything that would fit." Whatever, I won't go on too much about that because anyone who has faced plus-sized shopping knows that there is limited availability that means you don't have too much choice. No, what pisses me off more is the picture. What's with the mannequins? Is the ad trying to suggest that Julie has dieted herself down to look like these mannequins? Most store mannequins are around a size two or four and a weight loss of 5-10 pounds represents about 1 dress size so if Julie lost "just a few pounds" and now looks like a mannequin than Julie was a size 4 or 6 when she decided she was too fat and that this was a medical crisis necessitating medical intervention.

Anyway, so I was looking at the ad and thinking "Is this ad trying to say that this is what women should look like, these mannequins?" and I thought "No, no advertiser in their right mind would actually set up that kind of a message." It's one thing to say women should be thin but to be mannequins - faceless, lifeless dolls to dress up and stare at? Then I started thinking, "Why aren't the mannequins wearing any clothes? Isn't the point of this ad the "joy of fitting into fashionable clothes?" So then I thought, "Oh, maybe Julie is supposed to have bought all the clothes right off the mannequins." Which would again reinforce that Julie has dieted herself down to the size of the mannequins, since she bought the clothes they were wearing. So anyway you cut it, this ad is really saying the women should look like the mannequins.

And look at the mannequins in this ad!! I mean, the one on the right has NO bum. Even thin women still have bums. And then there's the fact that they are all naked - whether this is to emphasize their thinness or to hint at sexuality or to strip women of individuality by reducing them to generic forms I'm not sure but given the ad is focused on clothes, I think it's weird. And why is the one holding a purse? And notice how they're all facing away from the camera. Much like the lingerie ass and thigh shot in the other ad, it seems that the people at Julie's story have something against showing women's faces. Once again, I can't help but imagine how this ad could have been different - how about a laughing, smiling woman spinning in a new dress (I know it's the ultimate weight loss cliche shot, but you get my drift) or a woman piled down with shopping bags and a big grin on her face. How about some personality, some individuality, some, oh, I don't know, living people???

Anyway, to sum up - women as lifeless, plastic, generic, faceless, shapeless, skinny objects to be posed and looked at. Women who are larger than mannequins needing to undergo medical treatment (which is never, ever safe) for weight loss. This ad is creepy and disturbing. I think I find it more offensive than the ass and thigh ad. Look closely and think about it for a minute. It is some fucked up shit.

Stupid Julie's story. Still pissing me off.

Fox and feminism?

So a week or two ago, Fox aired "Stars Without Make-Up" or something like that - basically an hour long show catching celebrities without make-up. I didn't watch it so you'll have to forgive me if I get the details wrong. I've always found the "stars without make-up" concept offensive and I see it frequently on the magazine covers at the "kiosk of higher consciousness" at my subway station so I figured the Fox version didn't have anything for me I hadn't seen before. Anyway, apparently the show was so successful that they're planning a part two. And, to add to the drama, apparently some of the featured stars are banding together to take legal action of some sort.

Anyway, I started thinking about the thousands of people that must have tuned in and wondering at the mass insanity that is North America. It seems like a no brainer that, as a feminist, I should raise a call to arms about this show. But the more I think about it, I'm not so sure. Don't get me wrong. I think it's absolutely gross to stalk these celebrities, catch them in their normal everyday life and then plaster it all over TV and make fun of them. Since I didn't see the show, I don't know if it was men and women but I'm going to assume it was mostly women and note it as one more instance where the exterior matters so much more than the interior.

BUT, I think there is something important about seeing celebrities without their make-up. In these days when 50 is the new 40 and everyone between the ages of 35 and 55 seems to look the same on television, I think it's actually crucial to understand that there is a different reality. That even with botox and facial peels and all the rest of it, people do age. Wrinkles do come, skin does sag, the glow of youth does fade. Sadly, the youthful beauty is the only beauty we recognize. Even as women have gained power in Hollywood and the sway of the boomer generation means that more 50+ women are gracing the small and big screens, it seems that the flawless complexion of a 25 year old is still necessary. And when Susan Saranden and Julianne Moore look perfect in their cosmetics commercial, laughing about their eternal youth and beauty (or perhaps how lame the commercial is and to cover the sickly feeling of shame that is creeping up on them as the cameras roll - look close, you can see on SS's face, lol), I do think that we need someone to show that underneath it all, away from the stylists and the lights, they look like regular women.

The next step, of course, is to see the signs of age as signs of wisdom, health, and beauty and to recognize the glow of a happy, contented person as more beautiful than the glow of L'Oreal blush. To paraphrase Naomi Wolfe, instead of covering up our natural glow with foundation and putting on a fake glow with powders and cremes and calling that beauty, we need to see that the true source of beauty is that light that burns within, shines in our eyes and our faces and lights up the world.

My lovely doggin

To take the edge off of all my recent griping and ranting, I thought I'd put up one of my favourite pictures of my dog, Buddy. This was taken at Christmas time at my parent's cottage. I can't remember if it's me or my husband under the blanket with him. Anyway, Buddy snuggled in and fell asleep and one of us snapped this super cute pic.

Tales from the couch update

For those of you who are interested in therapeutic relationship issues, you'll be pleased to know that I worked out the whole group therapy issue to my satisfaction. Jury's still out on the therapist - in some ways I really like her but the warmth factor is a bit low. Plus she has a very strange way of ending sessions that I haven't got my head wrapped around yet. The first couple of times we met, she sort of saw me to the door (I have to go through her living room to leave). This time she got up while I was writing out my cheque and started checking her messages without saying a word to me. When I left, she had a her back to me and was on the phone. Anyway, we'll see, these things take time. Keep your fingers crossed for me!