Warning - this blog is about menstruation. If you find that in poor taste...well, personally I don't really care. Read something else then.
Have you ever had your period completely surprise you? You are on holidays, or in your car, or in the fitting room at Nordstrom, or worse - in a lecture hall, and you start to feel this slow trickle between your legs. If you are like me, than for sure you will not have a tampon in your purse. I always keep one for emergencies and it seems like I always use it and forget to replace it. Or, alternatively, I haven't used it and it gets mangled by the junk in my purse until there is no way that it could be considered sanitary and it gets pitched. This is precisely the moment where I will get my period - because I am unprepared.
I was musing on this predicament with my sister a while back and bitching that I, a 35 year old woman, should by now have some reasonable idea of when I will menstruate - but I don't. Every month it's like this diabolical surprise that springs up, usually when I am wearing white. My older sisters are incredulous that this continually happens to me. Kate: "Don't you know by now how to chart your period? They teach you that when you are twelve you know." Yes, I remember health class where dear Daena's mom (who was a nurse) would come and pass out "It's Wonderful Being a Girl" pamphlets and allow us to write questions annonymously on little scaps of paper so that we wouldn't be embrassed. I guess that you could say I am remedial because I never did actually use the calendar enclosed; twenty years later, I still have not done so.
Lynne and I have a mutual friend who tracks her period on-line so I thought I would check it out. http://www.mymonthlycycles.com/ If you are forgetful like me, this is a handy dandy little site. You can fill out your calendar online and it will send you reminder emails when you are going to menstruate. There was one hitch though in that you have to be able to give the dates of your last two periods (which frankly, if I knew that I wouldn't need the calendar) but after some discussion with Rob (Don't you remember? We were kyaking and had to race into Jasper? The month before that remember we had to leave that dinner party early?), I managed to figure it out. Yes folks, my poor husband has purchased feminine hygiene products for me pretty much everywhere on earth while I sit slunked low in the passenger seat with a napkin jammed between my legs... Anyway, the site is awesome. This month I received a pink pop-up reminder that said "Lisa: put some tampons in your purse." Also, you can track fertility, breast self examination, symptoms of your period, gynecologist appointments - whatever you want. It will graph the trends for you and make suggestions.
What really struck me though was the section for women who are trying to conceive. This is an invaluable tool for them as it tracks ovulation. There is a section called the 'Wishing Well' - as I opened it my eyes filled with tears (did I mention the cite will also track PMS?) Hundreds, no thousands, of voices filled my screen: 'Please God, give me a baby,' 'Please let this be the month,' 'My husband's disappointment is killing me, he wants this so badly.' It's overwhelming. There is a section called TTC after MC (trying to conceive after miscarrying) where women can post their wishes but also comment on other's wishes. You can send people prayers or, for the non-religious, wishes of good luck. You can send women 'tons of baby dust' or make supportive comments. This is what I found truly moving. Somewhere out in the electronic blackness there is a community of women holding each other up - buttressing each other. They are seperated by race, ethnicity, distance, socio-economic circumstances, religion, sexual orientation and so on - yet they come together to share their hopes, experiences and fears.
I added my own wish to well. "Please help us continue to be sisters, please help us support one another. Grant us peace."
Saturday, September 12, 2009
Saturday, August 29, 2009
Music makes the people come together...
For all of my friends who play piano, you have to check out this site: http://www.pianofiles.com/.
I stumbled upon this site when searching for some Natalie Merchant music online. I have had to resort to finding music online because of the complete and absolute tyranny that is the sheet music business. Most music stores will not allow customers to sample music in order to prevent people from copying it and returning it - which seems to make sense. However, what ends up happening to the end user, the customer, is that every music purchase is in it's own way a leap of faith. I have pretty decent sight reading abilities because I have had 15 years of conservatory music instruction and I am still constantly disappointed. Either the melody line isn't written in the music (meaning that it is true accompaniment music), or it is and you don't want that, or the music is too easy, or not in the key you want (which can be transposed but again, you need a fairly in depth understanding of music theory to do that). I have purchased music books looking for a single song for upwards of 50$, only to find out it wasn't what I wanted. And, of course, you can't return it.
The internet has been somewhat better in that you can search individual titles, as opposed to artists, and purchase a single song. The downside of this is that you don't even get to see the music, so you really have no idea what you are buying. I recently purchased a couple of songs from the Pride & Prejudice soundtrack that ended up being pretty, but far too easy. Luckily, they only set me back about 14$ each.
Pianofiles is a site that allows users to share music in pdf files. The music isn't available online for download for obvious copyright reasons, but members can arrange privately to send music to each other via email. FOR FREE. I have met pianists from all over the world, and I share music I have whenever I can. We can also share opinions, comments and suggestions. I usually receive music that I am looking for in about a week, which is comparable to internet purchasing.
Do I feel badly about the copyright issues? Hell no. I feel the same way about it as I do about downloading electronic music files. If artists find that they can't compete because people are sharing their music, they need to change the way they do business. Or go home. It's really that simple. I purchased the new Killers CD because I really liked them as a band and want to make sure that I am supporting them financially. What reward did I get for my purchase? Eight watered-down songs in addition to their single - which is the only decent song on the whole CD - and 4 photos of the band that my kid could have taken. I thought to myself: what is preventing me from downloading your music? As a customer, the product is shoddy. Whereas my new Rise Against CD was a treasure-trove of discovery. The artwork on the jacket is incredible. There is a small bio on all of the band members (the Killers CD didn't even have their names in it), recommended reading and recommended sites to visit. 50 Cent includes a DVD in his CD with a music video on it. Gwen Steffani's solo CD has passwords for her website so that fans can see exclusive interviews, concert footage, and pictures. Now people, that is thinking. I will buy her CD because she is delivering value. I have brand loyalty just as much as the next guy - I always buy Canadian artists to support our undervalued music industry - but dammit you have to earn it. Marilyn Manson once said in an interview that file sharing has allowed him to access customers he may not have had previously because they can sample the music, decide if they like it, and then purchase it. For artists who don't get radio play, file sharing is essential.
Downloading free music isn't easy or convenient. Anyone who has tried to load a free song into itunes can tell you this. File sharing of sheet music is also not convenient - you have to rely upon the mercy of a stranger in the same predicament to scan and send their music to you. I think the fact that file sharing exists is a consumer response to markets that are not meeting their customer's needs. Hell, sometimes I think they aren't even trying. Wanna know how Britney Spears makes her money? Ringtones. 1$ per ringtone adds up pretty quick... Whatever anyone wants to say about the quality of her music, she is selling.
I was recently treated to a soapbox argument about the issue of file sharing in our country and all I could think was: where else in business can a company bemoan their lack of sales by blaming the customer and then actually try to take legal action against the very people who they hope to purchase their product?
I guess those who cannot do - preach.
I stumbled upon this site when searching for some Natalie Merchant music online. I have had to resort to finding music online because of the complete and absolute tyranny that is the sheet music business. Most music stores will not allow customers to sample music in order to prevent people from copying it and returning it - which seems to make sense. However, what ends up happening to the end user, the customer, is that every music purchase is in it's own way a leap of faith. I have pretty decent sight reading abilities because I have had 15 years of conservatory music instruction and I am still constantly disappointed. Either the melody line isn't written in the music (meaning that it is true accompaniment music), or it is and you don't want that, or the music is too easy, or not in the key you want (which can be transposed but again, you need a fairly in depth understanding of music theory to do that). I have purchased music books looking for a single song for upwards of 50$, only to find out it wasn't what I wanted. And, of course, you can't return it.
The internet has been somewhat better in that you can search individual titles, as opposed to artists, and purchase a single song. The downside of this is that you don't even get to see the music, so you really have no idea what you are buying. I recently purchased a couple of songs from the Pride & Prejudice soundtrack that ended up being pretty, but far too easy. Luckily, they only set me back about 14$ each.
Pianofiles is a site that allows users to share music in pdf files. The music isn't available online for download for obvious copyright reasons, but members can arrange privately to send music to each other via email. FOR FREE. I have met pianists from all over the world, and I share music I have whenever I can. We can also share opinions, comments and suggestions. I usually receive music that I am looking for in about a week, which is comparable to internet purchasing.
Do I feel badly about the copyright issues? Hell no. I feel the same way about it as I do about downloading electronic music files. If artists find that they can't compete because people are sharing their music, they need to change the way they do business. Or go home. It's really that simple. I purchased the new Killers CD because I really liked them as a band and want to make sure that I am supporting them financially. What reward did I get for my purchase? Eight watered-down songs in addition to their single - which is the only decent song on the whole CD - and 4 photos of the band that my kid could have taken. I thought to myself: what is preventing me from downloading your music? As a customer, the product is shoddy. Whereas my new Rise Against CD was a treasure-trove of discovery. The artwork on the jacket is incredible. There is a small bio on all of the band members (the Killers CD didn't even have their names in it), recommended reading and recommended sites to visit. 50 Cent includes a DVD in his CD with a music video on it. Gwen Steffani's solo CD has passwords for her website so that fans can see exclusive interviews, concert footage, and pictures. Now people, that is thinking. I will buy her CD because she is delivering value. I have brand loyalty just as much as the next guy - I always buy Canadian artists to support our undervalued music industry - but dammit you have to earn it. Marilyn Manson once said in an interview that file sharing has allowed him to access customers he may not have had previously because they can sample the music, decide if they like it, and then purchase it. For artists who don't get radio play, file sharing is essential.
Downloading free music isn't easy or convenient. Anyone who has tried to load a free song into itunes can tell you this. File sharing of sheet music is also not convenient - you have to rely upon the mercy of a stranger in the same predicament to scan and send their music to you. I think the fact that file sharing exists is a consumer response to markets that are not meeting their customer's needs. Hell, sometimes I think they aren't even trying. Wanna know how Britney Spears makes her money? Ringtones. 1$ per ringtone adds up pretty quick... Whatever anyone wants to say about the quality of her music, she is selling.
I was recently treated to a soapbox argument about the issue of file sharing in our country and all I could think was: where else in business can a company bemoan their lack of sales by blaming the customer and then actually try to take legal action against the very people who they hope to purchase their product?
I guess those who cannot do - preach.
Saturday, August 1, 2009
Paint
I have a love/hate relationship with paint. I usually begin any renovation project with gusto, pouring over paint samples and design magazines, only to find my enthusiasm flagging by the time I am finished the first coat on the first wall. I love choosing paint colours, and if I may say so myself, I am really good at it. I can match undertones well - that is the secret. For example, the first time I painted my living room I choose the colour 'Egyptian' which is a deep earthy brown colour. You would think that it would be too dark and somber, but it isn't at all. The room gets a lot of light and the carpet is a light beige, so it works. I painted the ceiling mauve to compliment the brown because there is a mauve undertone in 'Egyptian'. The effect is cool in that you really cannot tell that my ceiling is purple - it looks white. I chose 'Americana' for my bathroom because it was such a vibrant shade of blue and then paired it with a massive gold gilt framed mirror over the sink and brushed nickel faucets. For the TV room, I was inspired by a Manhattan pied-a-terre concept: exposed brick, clean lines, modern furniture with a more masculine feel to it. I chose a deep chocolate brown for the end walls and a slate grey for the sides and paired it with rich chocolate leather couches. I felt a tiny burst of pride when I heard the cable guy's impressed whistle as Rob showed him the room. Ok ok, he was most likely whistling about the audio-visual equipment, but in my mind it was over my awesome paint job.
'Haze' is my favorite colour for paint that you want to be able to ignore. My bedroom is painted in this colour and so is my office. The colour resembles coffee with too much milk in it. But it's really soothing and matches well with almost any decor.
I gave my sister Kate deep red walls in her bedroom (that we immediately began calling her 'boudoir') which really set off the mahogany fireplace and dark wood mouldings of the room. We chose a crushed velvet bedspread and about a million throw pillows with heavy wine coloured curtains to finish off the room. The red walls were tough - anyone who has attempted this colour knows it is a faux amis. I burst into tears after the first coat dried because it resembled strongly the colour of Campbell's Tomato Soup. Grey primer was the secret to that room - or any room where you want to make the colour deep and bold. I have done textured walls also. The only thing I will say about that is that you better love love love that wall, because there is no way that you are getting that shit off. Plus it is super difficult to work with and you have to be so precise.
So here I am painting my living room again. This time, I am dropping the ceiling by painting the crown moulding and the ceiling the same shade. I chose an off-white with dove grey undertones to it to give an 'antiqued' feel to the room. I am painting the walls a moss green colour called 'Promenade.' Rob blanched at this colour choice, but is remaining cautiously optimistic. Granted, I had to recite the litany of paint jobs I have done in my life to remind him that really I am very good at this and he should just trust me; in the end he has agreed to leave me to it. Sure, I have made mistakes in the past. I painted the guest room downstairs yellow thinking it would open up a dreary basement room. This was before I knew that yellow is the colour of repressed rage. It looked like an asylum. I picked the lightest shade of blush pink for the kitchen which was really a rookie mistake. Unless you are painting a nursery, pink should never be used inside your home. It looked like the walls were hosed down with Pepto Bismol.
Vis-a-vis the living room, I am at the point where I am tired of painting which is bad because there is a lot more to do. I am sick of paint pans, and tape, and washing brushes. I am systematically dislocating my rotater cuff with all this repetitive motion and my hands are chapped from too much washing. My neck hurts from looking up all the time.
But I am still excited about the colour choices, I think I have picked a real winner this time. I will keep you posted...
'Haze' is my favorite colour for paint that you want to be able to ignore. My bedroom is painted in this colour and so is my office. The colour resembles coffee with too much milk in it. But it's really soothing and matches well with almost any decor.
I gave my sister Kate deep red walls in her bedroom (that we immediately began calling her 'boudoir') which really set off the mahogany fireplace and dark wood mouldings of the room. We chose a crushed velvet bedspread and about a million throw pillows with heavy wine coloured curtains to finish off the room. The red walls were tough - anyone who has attempted this colour knows it is a faux amis. I burst into tears after the first coat dried because it resembled strongly the colour of Campbell's Tomato Soup. Grey primer was the secret to that room - or any room where you want to make the colour deep and bold. I have done textured walls also. The only thing I will say about that is that you better love love love that wall, because there is no way that you are getting that shit off. Plus it is super difficult to work with and you have to be so precise.
So here I am painting my living room again. This time, I am dropping the ceiling by painting the crown moulding and the ceiling the same shade. I chose an off-white with dove grey undertones to it to give an 'antiqued' feel to the room. I am painting the walls a moss green colour called 'Promenade.' Rob blanched at this colour choice, but is remaining cautiously optimistic. Granted, I had to recite the litany of paint jobs I have done in my life to remind him that really I am very good at this and he should just trust me; in the end he has agreed to leave me to it. Sure, I have made mistakes in the past. I painted the guest room downstairs yellow thinking it would open up a dreary basement room. This was before I knew that yellow is the colour of repressed rage. It looked like an asylum. I picked the lightest shade of blush pink for the kitchen which was really a rookie mistake. Unless you are painting a nursery, pink should never be used inside your home. It looked like the walls were hosed down with Pepto Bismol.
Vis-a-vis the living room, I am at the point where I am tired of painting which is bad because there is a lot more to do. I am sick of paint pans, and tape, and washing brushes. I am systematically dislocating my rotater cuff with all this repetitive motion and my hands are chapped from too much washing. My neck hurts from looking up all the time.
But I am still excited about the colour choices, I think I have picked a real winner this time. I will keep you posted...
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
Oh Canada...
The topic of conversation around our backyard fire pit this Canada Day was "You know you are Canadian when..." Here are some of the answers:
You Know You Are Canadian When...
1) You have de-iced your car door locks using a lighter.
2) You have opened a beer bottle with that same lighter.
3) You know how to light a fire pretty much anywhere, with limited supplies.
4) You know how to paddle a canoe.
5) You have thrown at least one curling rock in your life.
6) You have caught at least one fish.
7) You have visited "The Largest ____" Fill in: Pasanka Egg, UFO, Lobster, etc... http://www.bigthings.ca/
8) You know the bird call from the Hinterland Who's Who.
http://www.hww.ca/index_e.asp
9) You can sing, or at least hum, the entire Log Driver's Waltz.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0ekqsHP9Sck
10) The Hockey Night in Canada theme song still gives you a thrill, even if you don't watch hockey.
11) You know at least one person who has held the Stanley Cup.
12) You know what a Double Double is, and you would like one please...
13) You have watched at least one episode of the following, usually due to a lack of cable TV: The Tommy Hunter Show, Rita McNeil & Friends, Hee-Haw, The Beachcombers, or Stompin Tom Connors. The Littlest Hobo was also mentioned, but many felt they watched that voluntarily.
14) You can sing along to the Irish Rovers because somehow all of the words of 'Wasn't That a Party' have crept into the recesses of your subconscious and refuse to leave.
15) Ditto for 'The Rodeo Song"...
16) That no matter where you go in this great land of ours, there are always strong opinions about the weather and the state of the roads.
17) You understand that beavers are mighty creatures.
18) You have shoveled twice in the same day.
19) No matter the flavor of your politics, everyone thinks Louis Riel kicked ass.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Louis_Riel
20) You have uttered the phrase "I hate white rabbits" to keep away the smoke.
As we neared the end of our list, we were forced to admit how regional ours was. We wondered what Lincoln's friend James' list would look like. His parents are from Vietnam, he was born in Canada. Or my sister Gayle's list, and her family in Québec. Or Shivani's. Or Ayala's. While there are moments where one can feel with strong conviction one's own 'Canadianness,' it is elusive as to what actually makes up this identity. I'm not sure why, but I like this. I like that there can be so many definitions to one single word: Canadian. I feel an immeasurable amount of pride in my country, and to be Canadian.
Happy Canada Day everyone.
You Know You Are Canadian When...
1) You have de-iced your car door locks using a lighter.
2) You have opened a beer bottle with that same lighter.
3) You know how to light a fire pretty much anywhere, with limited supplies.
4) You know how to paddle a canoe.
5) You have thrown at least one curling rock in your life.
6) You have caught at least one fish.
7) You have visited "The Largest ____" Fill in: Pasanka Egg, UFO, Lobster, etc... http://www.bigthings.ca/
8) You know the bird call from the Hinterland Who's Who.
http://www.hww.ca/index_e.asp
9) You can sing, or at least hum, the entire Log Driver's Waltz.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0ekqsHP9Sck
10) The Hockey Night in Canada theme song still gives you a thrill, even if you don't watch hockey.
11) You know at least one person who has held the Stanley Cup.
12) You know what a Double Double is, and you would like one please...
13) You have watched at least one episode of the following, usually due to a lack of cable TV: The Tommy Hunter Show, Rita McNeil & Friends, Hee-Haw, The Beachcombers, or Stompin Tom Connors. The Littlest Hobo was also mentioned, but many felt they watched that voluntarily.
14) You can sing along to the Irish Rovers because somehow all of the words of 'Wasn't That a Party' have crept into the recesses of your subconscious and refuse to leave.
15) Ditto for 'The Rodeo Song"...
16) That no matter where you go in this great land of ours, there are always strong opinions about the weather and the state of the roads.
17) You understand that beavers are mighty creatures.
18) You have shoveled twice in the same day.
19) No matter the flavor of your politics, everyone thinks Louis Riel kicked ass.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Louis_Riel
20) You have uttered the phrase "I hate white rabbits" to keep away the smoke.
As we neared the end of our list, we were forced to admit how regional ours was. We wondered what Lincoln's friend James' list would look like. His parents are from Vietnam, he was born in Canada. Or my sister Gayle's list, and her family in Québec. Or Shivani's. Or Ayala's. While there are moments where one can feel with strong conviction one's own 'Canadianness,' it is elusive as to what actually makes up this identity. I'm not sure why, but I like this. I like that there can be so many definitions to one single word: Canadian. I feel an immeasurable amount of pride in my country, and to be Canadian.
Happy Canada Day everyone.
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
On the jar...
I am addicted to a TV show. Most of you know that I am not a big television watcher, but lately I have been watching the show "Til Debt do us Part" and, I must say, I am a little obsessed. For those of you who do not know the show, it is about people who are in a financial crisis and appeal to a debt counselor (host Gail Vaz-Oxlade) to show them the error of their ways. First, she assesses 6 months of the family's financial history and shows them where they are spending their money, how much they are in debt, and where they will be in 5 years if they continue overspending. Then, she puts the family on a strict cash-only budget where they must plan their expenses for the week based on the amount of money coming in, and then place the allotted cash in mason jars according to the following categories: food, entertainment, clothing and gifts, and transportation. Usually this involves making a major cut to the family's variable expenses - sometimes up to 70%. It is what people spend their money on that I find fascinating. You would think that in order for people to get into such trouble that they require the help of a financial analyst, they would have to have uncontrollable shopping habits, or gambling issues, or are simply wasting their money on unneeded luxury items. Some of them do, but the majority of them don't. What most people overspend on is food. This never fails to shock me. Food is what is sinking most families into financial ruin.
Now let me be clear about this - this is not food purchased from the grocery store, this is mostly take-out, fast food, and restaurants. It is not that these people are going out 3 times a week for 7 course meals at the Unheardof either; mostly their eating decisions are centred around hectic lifestyles where mom has worked all day and has only twenty minutes to get food into her children before taking them to some type of practice or lesson. One hockey mom that was on the show last week was spending an average of 400$ on food above and beyond her grocery expenses. When Gail (I feel the intimacy of a first name basis with this woman, I'm not sure why) cut off her fast-food spending, she had to learn how to balance the demands of a busy lifestyle with the nutritional needs of her family.
As a woman who has 2 sons in competitive soccer, I can really relate with this expense. There are so many days when I just want to say 'screw it, let's get take-out' - and I do. Gail says that if you do no other planning in your finances but how you spend money in regards to food, you will be so much better off. Because no matter how often you swear that you will not spend money on take-out, if you haven't a meal planned and ingredients at hand, you will spend the money. The demands of the hungry body must be met. This seems like such simple rationale, but try telling that to a mother with kids in lessons, or a professional who is working a 45 hour work week, or a widower who can't seem to find the gumption to prepare a meal for only one person. At the end of the day, it just kind of sneaks up on you - 'oh yeah, I have to eat.'
So the first 'challenge' she makes the family do, is to plan all their meals for the week and shop only one time per week. I have decided to try this. Rob and I are fairly European in our shopping habits, and really like to see how we feel that day before deciding on what we are eating, so this is a real challenge. First, I wrote out a calendar of where each person needed to be on any given day and then determined how many breakfasts, lunches, dinners and snacks I would need for 5 days. No more Flamingo Pizza, or Quan's, or take-out of any kind. I let the boys participate in the making of the grocery list and they can choose whatever they want. I keep a couple of frozen pizzas on-hand for emergencies. I have started making single serving chili, hamburger casseroles, and beef stews for nights where the kids need to feed themselves. Today I went to the grocery store with a list and actually stuck to it. And you know what? My bill was only 120$. If I could spend only 500$ a month on food, I would be overjoyed.
So what does the minister of finance (my pet-name for Rob) think of all of this? He seems to be treating me with a sort of bemused patience. I know he is happy the I am taking an interest in the household expenses because, let's be frank, I never even considered them before. Rob once hid all of the plans for a secret trip to Maui under "banking info" feeling certain that I would never look there. He was right, I didn't. I still don't know what bank carries our mortgage and it was news to me that power and water came on the same bill, but dammit I'm going to try. When I said that I wanted a new diamond ring for our anniversary, Rob asked which jar that was going to come from. Now he makes all kind of 'jar' jokes: 'We'll have to get bigger jars,' 'I'm going to hit the transportation jar pretty hard this month' (he bought a new car), 'which jar does the spa treatments come out of?' and so on. Yeah, he's having fun with this - but that's okay. I nixed his Tim Hortons allowance but I am pretty sure that he just transfered that expense to his business and is going there on the sly...
And although I am not living on cash from mason jars, I am doing so metaphorically. So far, it hasn't been too bad. Tonight is Taco night and the boys are going to help cook. By September, when my schedule gets really crazy, I might actually have my shit together...
Now let me be clear about this - this is not food purchased from the grocery store, this is mostly take-out, fast food, and restaurants. It is not that these people are going out 3 times a week for 7 course meals at the Unheardof either; mostly their eating decisions are centred around hectic lifestyles where mom has worked all day and has only twenty minutes to get food into her children before taking them to some type of practice or lesson. One hockey mom that was on the show last week was spending an average of 400$ on food above and beyond her grocery expenses. When Gail (I feel the intimacy of a first name basis with this woman, I'm not sure why) cut off her fast-food spending, she had to learn how to balance the demands of a busy lifestyle with the nutritional needs of her family.
As a woman who has 2 sons in competitive soccer, I can really relate with this expense. There are so many days when I just want to say 'screw it, let's get take-out' - and I do. Gail says that if you do no other planning in your finances but how you spend money in regards to food, you will be so much better off. Because no matter how often you swear that you will not spend money on take-out, if you haven't a meal planned and ingredients at hand, you will spend the money. The demands of the hungry body must be met. This seems like such simple rationale, but try telling that to a mother with kids in lessons, or a professional who is working a 45 hour work week, or a widower who can't seem to find the gumption to prepare a meal for only one person. At the end of the day, it just kind of sneaks up on you - 'oh yeah, I have to eat.'
So the first 'challenge' she makes the family do, is to plan all their meals for the week and shop only one time per week. I have decided to try this. Rob and I are fairly European in our shopping habits, and really like to see how we feel that day before deciding on what we are eating, so this is a real challenge. First, I wrote out a calendar of where each person needed to be on any given day and then determined how many breakfasts, lunches, dinners and snacks I would need for 5 days. No more Flamingo Pizza, or Quan's, or take-out of any kind. I let the boys participate in the making of the grocery list and they can choose whatever they want. I keep a couple of frozen pizzas on-hand for emergencies. I have started making single serving chili, hamburger casseroles, and beef stews for nights where the kids need to feed themselves. Today I went to the grocery store with a list and actually stuck to it. And you know what? My bill was only 120$. If I could spend only 500$ a month on food, I would be overjoyed.
So what does the minister of finance (my pet-name for Rob) think of all of this? He seems to be treating me with a sort of bemused patience. I know he is happy the I am taking an interest in the household expenses because, let's be frank, I never even considered them before. Rob once hid all of the plans for a secret trip to Maui under "banking info" feeling certain that I would never look there. He was right, I didn't. I still don't know what bank carries our mortgage and it was news to me that power and water came on the same bill, but dammit I'm going to try. When I said that I wanted a new diamond ring for our anniversary, Rob asked which jar that was going to come from. Now he makes all kind of 'jar' jokes: 'We'll have to get bigger jars,' 'I'm going to hit the transportation jar pretty hard this month' (he bought a new car), 'which jar does the spa treatments come out of?' and so on. Yeah, he's having fun with this - but that's okay. I nixed his Tim Hortons allowance but I am pretty sure that he just transfered that expense to his business and is going there on the sly...
And although I am not living on cash from mason jars, I am doing so metaphorically. So far, it hasn't been too bad. Tonight is Taco night and the boys are going to help cook. By September, when my schedule gets really crazy, I might actually have my shit together...
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Wonderful life (?)
Warning: the contents of this message will contain no answers, only difficult questions...
On Friday night, Cassandra Williams ended her life. I don't think this was an accident. She was at Rock and Ride, where both Ryley and Lincoln were, and she took 6 ecstasy pills. Each pill was triple the normal dosage. She collapsed in a crowd of people on a sticky concrete floor - the music blaring as she went down. I wonder how many people didn't even notice. By the time they got her to the hospital, she was in full cardiac arrest. Twenty hours later her mother made the decision to remove her life support when it was clear that there was no way that Cassie was coming back. There are no words for this kind of agony so I will stop here.
I want to clarify my meaning when I say that this was no accident. That is not to say that I believe that Cassie deliberately ended her life - far from it - I imagine that what she was going for was more life, not less. What I think is no accident, is how she got into the situation in the first place. This is far more complicated because it forces us as women to ask ourselves some difficult questions and raises some accountability issues. When it comes to smoking, drinking and drug use, girls are far outstripping the boys. Their abuse of prescription drugs is also on the rise. The reasons for this, of course, are familiar: to be cool, to be emo, to be daring, to be skinny, to be popular, peer pressure, and on and on and on. One blog I was reading had a comment from a 12 year old girl who said that the thrill of hiding something, of doing something she knew was 'bad', thrilled her. She liked the idea of 'getting away with it.'
On Friday night, Cassandra Williams ended her life. I don't think this was an accident. She was at Rock and Ride, where both Ryley and Lincoln were, and she took 6 ecstasy pills. Each pill was triple the normal dosage. She collapsed in a crowd of people on a sticky concrete floor - the music blaring as she went down. I wonder how many people didn't even notice. By the time they got her to the hospital, she was in full cardiac arrest. Twenty hours later her mother made the decision to remove her life support when it was clear that there was no way that Cassie was coming back. There are no words for this kind of agony so I will stop here.
I want to clarify my meaning when I say that this was no accident. That is not to say that I believe that Cassie deliberately ended her life - far from it - I imagine that what she was going for was more life, not less. What I think is no accident, is how she got into the situation in the first place. This is far more complicated because it forces us as women to ask ourselves some difficult questions and raises some accountability issues. When it comes to smoking, drinking and drug use, girls are far outstripping the boys. Their abuse of prescription drugs is also on the rise. The reasons for this, of course, are familiar: to be cool, to be emo, to be daring, to be skinny, to be popular, peer pressure, and on and on and on. One blog I was reading had a comment from a 12 year old girl who said that the thrill of hiding something, of doing something she knew was 'bad', thrilled her. She liked the idea of 'getting away with it.'
That is when it clicked with me that this is about control, or more specifically, the lack thereof. In a world where young women have so very little control, the one thing that they can control is their bodies and what they do with them. It's primal. It says "I have dominion over this body, how it feels, how it looks, how it is perceived, how it moves, its pleasure, its pain, because dammit, it is mine and somehow, somewhere, something is going to begin and end with me. I can even place my body in situations where it loses control, because that is how in control I am." So, my question, the first of many, is: how do we give our girls more control? And, perhaps more importantly, what are doing or not doing that is taking this control away?
When I was a teenager I read The Great Gatsby for the first time. There was something so beautiful and tragic about Daisy. I loved the part where she said to Nick that if she was to ever have a daughter, she hoped that she would be a beautiful fool. Something about that line really resonated with me at age 14. Although I could not have articulated it at the time, I intimately understood the truth of that logic. Beauty was to be wished for because obviously it is currency, and foolishness so that you never had to understand that beauty was the only currency available to you as a woman. Something in me glimpsed at our lack of control and made foolishness seem so much more preferable than the Herculian task of changing it. I look at the young women of today and feel a similar deep despair. The media that indoctrinates them, their continued inequality of representation in government, religion, and commerce, the legal fights that continue to surround their bodies (abortion, rape), the 76 cents they will earn to every male dollar, the marketing departments targeting them, the entertainment industry targeting them, the drug dealers targeting them - they are, quite literally, being hunted. Today, being a beautiful fool will get you killed...
I apologize for the emotional rant. I just can't imagine what was going through the mind of a 14 year old girl who thought it would be a good idea to take 6 of anything - much less a drug with a rising death toll. There is something achingly familiar about her; it's as if at one time I was her.
One thing is clear to me: I know who I am fighting for. What is less clear, is what needs to be done...
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Lateral Drift...
Deconstruction is a bitch. Just ask anyone that has gone through the process. To take something apart - be it your home, your career, or even your own assumptions and beliefs takes a tremendous amount of mental effort, and no small amount of courage either.
I have friends that are working through this process right now. Some are leaving careers either by choice or by cutbacks, others are leaving marriages that have ceased to function, others are leaving home, some are finishing school. All of them are looking for their path. I have taken apart my life brick by brick once before so I know there are a lot of misnomers out there about the process of deconstruction. The biggest one would be the amount of time it takes. If only life could be a series of well researched decisions, perfectly executed, with appropriate feelings and reactions in check - but it is never like that. It takes way longer than you imagine.
For me, deconstruction began with a profound feeling of 'stuckness' - a kind of paralysis. A feeling like I had to move, but had no idea where, or how, or why - just that what I was doing wasn't fitting any more. I felt like I was wearing a coat that was too small for me, pinching my shoulders, restricting my movement. And the feeling didn't go away. In fact, it just got worse. I remember saying to a friend of mine that I felt like my mind and my body were in a wheel chair, paralyzed totally, but I knew that my house was on fire. Profound feelings of need, or perhaps more accurately lack, combined with complete and total inability to imagine how or what to do. Being a type A personality, I naturally addressed this with a mamoth 'TO DO' list. No sir, I wasn't going down without a fight. I agressively renovated my house. I learned to cook exotic foreign meals. I monitored homework completion with military precision. I had a strict 'no television' policy. I had done the courageous thing, hadn't I? I had left a good job, comfortable wage, and years of service to rediscover what I wanted from life. At the time, I fancied myself as somewhat of a maverick, allowing myself to be open to where the universe was going to direct me next. Proactively having my midlife crisis at thirty. And do you know what? The universe was totally silent. It gave no clues as to what to "be" next. Who was I without my job title? It was astonishing to discover how much that title had constructed my belief system.
In face of the inevitable dinner party question "what do you do?" I blanched. I talked around it, projects I was planning, books I was reading, traveling, and so on. "Being" a wife and mother didn't seem like an occupation to me because I always had other ways of identifying myself. It is funny to always be on the wrong side of things. When I worked, I felt like I was being torn in two directions where the boys were concerned and what I wanted to accomplish for myself. 'Could I?' was rapidly becoming 'should I?' When I left work, I felt like I didn't have any ambition. I saw staying at home as losing myself. I think many women feel like that though. The innumerable amount of hats we're supposed to wear comfortably, without question.
At any rate, my answers to the "what do you do?" question got cheekier and more defiant. I was sick to death of answering, and asking, that question. "What do you do?" "Whatever I want, whenever I want" was my imagined response. Said coyly, betraying no insecurity. Eventually, my answer was a simple "nothing." My sisters hated this. They didn't like that I would say that I was nothing. They would put on a fashion show of all of my hats, pushing me to choose one. I tried to explain that I really wanted to try being nothing for a change. That I wanted to see who I was without the definition. Without the box to check off in efficient red pen. On the way back from being something, sometimes you have to be nothing. Otherwise, it's not deconstruction.
You would think that being nothing would leave me wide open for self discovery. Like a tabula rasa, just waiting for the universe to make its mark. Hey universe, I'm open now. Undistracted. Ready for guidance... but still nothing. So, I started to panic. I voraciously read self-help books. I consulted the oracle. Several oracles, actually. I did Meyers Briggs tests that told me I was well suited to the field I just left. I worried and fraught. I examined the problem of 'being' from every logical perspective; I thought of little else. Slowly, I sank into despair. This question of what to be and what to do became larger than life. God forbid I didn't reach my potential (hi mom). Did I just totally fuck up my career? Did I, (gasp) fail?
I wish I could give my friends a map of how to find their answers. Or at least how to be nothing comfortably, patiently. One thing that I will say is that when conventional linear logic fails, allow your mind to drift laterally. Do something else unrelated. Think of other things. Give 'nothing' time to gel. And yes, being nothing and doing nothing is a viable option. Sometimes, when you have worried a problem to death, it's the only thing left to do.
Below is an excerpt from Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance by Robert Prisig. It was in deceased friend's book collection; Dave sending us his wisdom from beyond the grave. I have always said that the right book always finds me at the right time - at the moment when I most need it.
"Yes and no...this or that...one or zero. On the basis of this elementary two term discrimination, all human knowledge is built up. The demonstration of this is the computer memory which stores all of its knowledge in the form of binary information. It contains ones and zeros and that’s all.
Because we are unaccustomed to it we don’t usually see that there’s a third possible logical term equal to yes and no which is capable of expanding our understanding in an unrecognized direction. We don’t even have a term for it, so I use the Japanese mu. Mu means “no thing”. It points outside the process of dualistic discrimination. Mu simply says “No class; not one, not zero, not yes, not no.” It states that the context of the question is such that a yes or no answer is in error and should not be given. “Un-ask the question” is what it says. Mu becomes appropriate when the context of the question becomes too small for the truth of the answer” (288).
I love that last part: "Mu becomes appropriate when the context of the question becomes too small for the answer." It is one thing to wrap your head around it theoretically, it is quite another to actually apply it to your life. All of this meditation on 'destiny' and 'paths' and 'being' was getting me nowhere. It wasn't until I 'un-asked' the question, that I started to drift. It wasn't until I started to drift, that I found what I was looking for. Not total illumination, more just a glimmer. Slowly, things started to take shape. That isn't to say that I didn't hit roadblocks. I had to start later than I wanted. There were hoops to jump through. Questions of deservedness that needed to be answered on my part and theirs. But because I wasn't asking the question and wasn't paying attention for the 'signs,' I didn't get weighed down by them.
And whaddya know? Here I am, standing on a path. No list of pros and cons, no Failure Modes and Effects analysis, no Ishikawa diagram, no stakeholder analysis gave me the answer. I just wandered into it. Mu, totally.
I have friends that are working through this process right now. Some are leaving careers either by choice or by cutbacks, others are leaving marriages that have ceased to function, others are leaving home, some are finishing school. All of them are looking for their path. I have taken apart my life brick by brick once before so I know there are a lot of misnomers out there about the process of deconstruction. The biggest one would be the amount of time it takes. If only life could be a series of well researched decisions, perfectly executed, with appropriate feelings and reactions in check - but it is never like that. It takes way longer than you imagine.
For me, deconstruction began with a profound feeling of 'stuckness' - a kind of paralysis. A feeling like I had to move, but had no idea where, or how, or why - just that what I was doing wasn't fitting any more. I felt like I was wearing a coat that was too small for me, pinching my shoulders, restricting my movement. And the feeling didn't go away. In fact, it just got worse. I remember saying to a friend of mine that I felt like my mind and my body were in a wheel chair, paralyzed totally, but I knew that my house was on fire. Profound feelings of need, or perhaps more accurately lack, combined with complete and total inability to imagine how or what to do. Being a type A personality, I naturally addressed this with a mamoth 'TO DO' list. No sir, I wasn't going down without a fight. I agressively renovated my house. I learned to cook exotic foreign meals. I monitored homework completion with military precision. I had a strict 'no television' policy. I had done the courageous thing, hadn't I? I had left a good job, comfortable wage, and years of service to rediscover what I wanted from life. At the time, I fancied myself as somewhat of a maverick, allowing myself to be open to where the universe was going to direct me next. Proactively having my midlife crisis at thirty. And do you know what? The universe was totally silent. It gave no clues as to what to "be" next. Who was I without my job title? It was astonishing to discover how much that title had constructed my belief system.
In face of the inevitable dinner party question "what do you do?" I blanched. I talked around it, projects I was planning, books I was reading, traveling, and so on. "Being" a wife and mother didn't seem like an occupation to me because I always had other ways of identifying myself. It is funny to always be on the wrong side of things. When I worked, I felt like I was being torn in two directions where the boys were concerned and what I wanted to accomplish for myself. 'Could I?' was rapidly becoming 'should I?' When I left work, I felt like I didn't have any ambition. I saw staying at home as losing myself. I think many women feel like that though. The innumerable amount of hats we're supposed to wear comfortably, without question.
At any rate, my answers to the "what do you do?" question got cheekier and more defiant. I was sick to death of answering, and asking, that question. "What do you do?" "Whatever I want, whenever I want" was my imagined response. Said coyly, betraying no insecurity. Eventually, my answer was a simple "nothing." My sisters hated this. They didn't like that I would say that I was nothing. They would put on a fashion show of all of my hats, pushing me to choose one. I tried to explain that I really wanted to try being nothing for a change. That I wanted to see who I was without the definition. Without the box to check off in efficient red pen. On the way back from being something, sometimes you have to be nothing. Otherwise, it's not deconstruction.
You would think that being nothing would leave me wide open for self discovery. Like a tabula rasa, just waiting for the universe to make its mark. Hey universe, I'm open now. Undistracted. Ready for guidance... but still nothing. So, I started to panic. I voraciously read self-help books. I consulted the oracle. Several oracles, actually. I did Meyers Briggs tests that told me I was well suited to the field I just left. I worried and fraught. I examined the problem of 'being' from every logical perspective; I thought of little else. Slowly, I sank into despair. This question of what to be and what to do became larger than life. God forbid I didn't reach my potential (hi mom). Did I just totally fuck up my career? Did I, (gasp) fail?
I wish I could give my friends a map of how to find their answers. Or at least how to be nothing comfortably, patiently. One thing that I will say is that when conventional linear logic fails, allow your mind to drift laterally. Do something else unrelated. Think of other things. Give 'nothing' time to gel. And yes, being nothing and doing nothing is a viable option. Sometimes, when you have worried a problem to death, it's the only thing left to do.
Below is an excerpt from Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance by Robert Prisig. It was in deceased friend's book collection; Dave sending us his wisdom from beyond the grave. I have always said that the right book always finds me at the right time - at the moment when I most need it.
"Yes and no...this or that...one or zero. On the basis of this elementary two term discrimination, all human knowledge is built up. The demonstration of this is the computer memory which stores all of its knowledge in the form of binary information. It contains ones and zeros and that’s all.
Because we are unaccustomed to it we don’t usually see that there’s a third possible logical term equal to yes and no which is capable of expanding our understanding in an unrecognized direction. We don’t even have a term for it, so I use the Japanese mu. Mu means “no thing”. It points outside the process of dualistic discrimination. Mu simply says “No class; not one, not zero, not yes, not no.” It states that the context of the question is such that a yes or no answer is in error and should not be given. “Un-ask the question” is what it says. Mu becomes appropriate when the context of the question becomes too small for the truth of the answer” (288).
I love that last part: "Mu becomes appropriate when the context of the question becomes too small for the answer." It is one thing to wrap your head around it theoretically, it is quite another to actually apply it to your life. All of this meditation on 'destiny' and 'paths' and 'being' was getting me nowhere. It wasn't until I 'un-asked' the question, that I started to drift. It wasn't until I started to drift, that I found what I was looking for. Not total illumination, more just a glimmer. Slowly, things started to take shape. That isn't to say that I didn't hit roadblocks. I had to start later than I wanted. There were hoops to jump through. Questions of deservedness that needed to be answered on my part and theirs. But because I wasn't asking the question and wasn't paying attention for the 'signs,' I didn't get weighed down by them.
And whaddya know? Here I am, standing on a path. No list of pros and cons, no Failure Modes and Effects analysis, no Ishikawa diagram, no stakeholder analysis gave me the answer. I just wandered into it. Mu, totally.
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