Please bear with me as there will be no posting for a while. We lost C's father in a tragic farming accident yesterday and so our energies will be used there.

P.S. To Coffee Crack Entry

My observations about coffee were in no way intended to communicate any hatred of coffee itself and was satirical in nature.

I love coffee. Especially Stone's Throw Coffee House coffee. Just putting that out there.

I love you, too, Todd and Shar!

Fwd: Fwd: Fwd: Fwd: Fwd: Fwd: This is totally racist! LOL

Is it just me, or is anyone else SO FREAKING TIRED of receiving email forwards that are just thinly veiled conservative agenda pushing?

SERIOUSLY.

They begin seemingly benign, trite, and cliched (like ALL forwards) but then turn into malignant, trite, cliched RIGHT WING CRAP. It is as if they are using patriotism and freedom of speech like ketchup-- if I hide my racism in here, people will admit they agree with me. That will teach those bleeding heart Liberals!

Sorry guys, no matter how thick the disguise, nothing can change the bad taste of your message.

Example:

My father loves Maxine from Shoebox greetings. He thinks the old hag is hilarious. I frequently get Maxine forwards from my dad. The final frame (clearly not an original) in the most recent is an image of Maxine holding a cup of coffee with the following text added in:

"Towel Heads"

Recently I received a warning about the use of this politically incorrect term, so please note: We all need to be more sensitive in our choice of words. I have been informed that the Islamic terrorists, who hate our guts and want to kill us, do not like to be called "Towel Heads" since the item they wear on their heads is not actually a towel, but in fact, a small folded sheet. Therefore, from this point forward, please refer to them as "Little Sheet Heads". Thank you for your support and compliance in this delicate matter.

News flash: If you need a greeting card cartoon character to lend credibility to your beliefs, chances are your values are suspect. Your concern isn't freedom of speech, it's freedom of ignorance. And any human being who believes that the writers at Hallmark thought this was clever and actually wrote it is a complete and utter tool. It isn't clever. It isn't even funny. It's obvious and pathetic.

And to still get crap like this in spite of recent publicity about racist email forwards, let's me know that people just don't get it. So, people-- please think critically about everything you read and pass on-- even crappy forwards. At the very least, don't send it to me. You know me better than that. If you want to talk freedom of speech, let's do so in an intelligent way.

The Man's Crack: How Coffee Keeps Us Compliant

I wish this entry was going to live up to its title. There is nothing more I would rather do than spend a few hours exploring this argument in a university-English-class-where-the-prof-lets-you-choose-your-own-topic kind of way, but we're off to Hawaii on Saturday and I have other stuff to do (and I lied back there-- I would much rather be in Hawaii than writing a pointless yet entertaining essay). So you are going to have to live with what I can produce in 40 minutes or less.

We just got a Keurig Brewing System for our kitchen. That's right. We don't make coffee any more. We brew it. With a system.

I got it for C for Father's Day because he was always complaining about our crappy 12 cup coffee maker that leaked on the counter (we used to use a French Press, but it didn't keep coffee warm for me throughout the day). And since I didn't get anything for Mother's Day (just a fact, not trying to rub it in, C-- although I will be posting that story on my other blog later today), I thought I might as well get something we both could use.

This entry began brewing in my mind this morning when every time I walked past the machine, I would think, "I can't wait for N's nap so I can have some..." Seriously. The life I created who basically performs miracles of development each day was playing on the carpet and I was hoping for less time with her awake so I could enjoy some delicious fresh java.

My name is Sleeves, and I'm an addict.

It got me thinking about how caffeine is the most socially accepted drug in the universe and why that might be. Besides the obvious (it doesn't cause hallucinations or slowed reaction times and actually improves performance in a number of cognitive and physical tasks), I'm fairly confident coffee is The Man's way of maintaining the capitalist structure. Think about it. Every workplace has a coffee maker. We have been given coffee breaks as a reward for our work. If the boss asks you to come in early or work late, what do you use to help get you through? Coffee. And we think we are "treating" ourselves-- indulging on the job-- when what's really happening is that The Man is using us as His beans and making economic lattes each day. They don't call it the daily grind for nothing. And we're OK with it because we're getting something out of it, too-- a fix.

Jimmy's a young go-getter, fresh out of high school, eager to make some real money in the corporate world. He gets a job in clerical. It's not where he wants to be in 5 years, but it's a good place to start. On his first day, Joe (a clerical employee of 37 years) shows Jimmy around. The tour ends in the break room where Joe begins to show Jimmy how to use the coffee maker.

Jimmy: Oh don't worry about that. I don't drink coffee.

The break room, previously a-buzz with gossip and inappropriate jokes falls into a hush.

Joe: Oh, but you will, Jimmy. You will.

Joe continues with the demonstration and Jimmy feigns attention in an effort to discourage the hot stares of the other employees.

The next day, Jimmy arrives at work 15 minutes early and heads into the break room to socialize before punching his time card. There's a cute girl sitting alone at the table. She looks up, as if she was expecting him.

Cute Girl: You must be Jimmy. I'm Joanne. It's great to meet you.

She extends her perfectly manicured hand for a handshake.

Joanne: I'm an early riser, too. Can I get you a coffee to start your day off on the right foot?

Jimmy: No thanks, I'll just have some water.

Joanne: (laughing flirtatiously) Water. That's a good one. Seriously-- cream? Sugar?

Jimmy: No-- I...

Just then, in walks Jimmy's supervisor, Jose.

Jose: Hey Jimmy! Wanted to start your day off right, so I brought you a double-double in your very own company travel mug.

Not wanting to be rude, Jimmy accepts the sweet, creamy treat.

Jimmy: Well, guess I better get to work...

Jimmy heads to his work station, sets down the unopened mug, and starts working. Around 10:30, the distinct aroma of coffee drifts in and Jimmy realizes it's break time. Not wanting another coffee related confrontation, he works straight through to lunch. Even though he's behind in his work and would like to work through lunch, Jimmy knows he needs a break because his stomach is growling and he's feeling tired from his low blood sugar. As he gets up to go, he notices the still, unopened mug.

Jimmy: I wonder what all the fuss is about. I've tried the stuff before and can't say that I liked it. What am I missing? It was such a nice gesture of Jose to bring it in for me and I hate wasting anything... I might as well give it a try.

And so Jimmy takes the bait. He opens the cup, the distinct scent carried on the steam rises to greet him. He takes a swig and the smooth, sweet, sophisticated flavour slides past his palate warming him body and soul. He's hooked.

With caffeine now coursing through his veins, Jimmy decides that he can skip lunch after all.

Months pass and now you would hardly recognize Jimmy. He arrives at work early, but only to be the first in line at the coffee maker. The coffee stains around his eyes are like track marks. His initial caffeine jolt keeps him efficient until 10:15 when he begins counting every painful minute until 10:30 when he can refill his cup. His favourite lunchtime spot is an international coffee chain where he orders tasteless lunches to accompany his venti Americano. He brings back a double macchiato for his boss knowing that he is up for a promotion. He is excited about his coffee date with Joanne later that night. Not only is coffee the fuel in his tank, it is also the grease of corporate (and romantic) wheels.

Because he is always thinking about his next fix, Jimmy doesn't take time to look at the bigger picture. He doesn't think critically about his place in the world-- about his true dreams and aspirations. He forgets his five year plan and instead ends up right where The Man wants him-- in the giant hamster wheel of 9-5, his paycheques reinforcing the strong foundation of our economy: coffee.

Even in this recession, I would venture a guess that coffee sales aren't down. Perhaps some people have stopped paying for $4 lattes, but you can bet that they invested in some grounds for home. Nothing could cause this industry to crumble-- heck, they even have Oprah's Dr. Oz touting the medical benefits of java. And we all know about the Oprah Effect, right?

In conclusion, go grab yourself a cup and keep our economy and The Man as strong as your brew.

Wait... was that what I was trying to say? Who cares-- I'm going to get a refill.

Yeah! What she said!

This article by Gail Vazoxlade (my financial hero from Slice Network's Till Debt Do Us Part) captures exactly how I feel about the financial practices of our generation and the ones that are coming up behind us.

I have to admit that I very well could have been one of these folk and still sometimes have to shake that "picture" she describes out of my head and trade it for a photo of reality, but C has had an incredibly positive influence on me with regards to finances. I came into our relationship with a car loan. He had an 86 Golf that was (needless to say?) paid off. I came into our relationship living one month behind thanks to Mastercard and my habit of spending my next paycheque. C came in with an incredible credit score from his years farming. During the first 4 years of our relationship, I spent over $20 000 I didn't have on my education (fortunately, I got much of it back in scholarships and bursaries). C had no student debt to speak of even though he had just graduated. In the first six years of our relationship, my credit card was paid off, we sold my car, my student loans were put to rest (in cash! Thanks international teaching!) and we saved up enough for a downpayment on our home (C used his RRSPs for the downpayment on our first house-- he was 23 years old at the time). It boggles my mind how hard he has worked his whole life to keep out of debt. This will be the first summer in his 8 years of teaching that he hasn't had another job.

I must say that we have been very fortunate in that every piece of furniture we own except for one couch, our TV stand, our mattress (which was purchased 9 years ago), N's crib and dresser, and the bedroom set we recently splurged on was a hand-me-down from my family. This has been extremely helpful in keeping us from falling into the consumer trap.

We have also been fortunate in that our degrees happen to be for a profession that is always hiring and that rarely has lay-offs. Our extra health coverage and retirement plan also free up some cash flow.

I grew up with everything. Seriously, everything. But C has shown me that earning everything you need and even some of what you want is so much more fulfilling than just being handed it all or taking it before you earned it. We don't live super frugally, but we stay within our means, which to us means saving for what we want before we buy it (in the vast majority of cases, our most recent car purchase did not meet that criteria, but it was a VERY good deal), and putting money into savings and investments for our future.

C's budgeting and forward planning has helped us maintain our standard of living in spite of my being on maternity leave. Even though I am not the brains behind the operation, we always communicate about our finances and ensure that we are on the same page. I know that if we were cartoon characters, he would be the angel and I would be the devil on the shoulders of our financial relationship, but we've managed to achieve a respectful balance that keeps us in the black and keeps me feeling like the girl who has everything.

Gail says that money is the number one reason for divorce. I guess we should look up the number two reason because, for now at least, we've got number one cased. Thanks, C.

Rereading this, I realize it could come off as smug, but I am super proud of where we are right now and I can't apologize for that. It is true that a lot of stars aligned for us to be in such a great position and for that I am thankful, but C also had the financial wit to know what to do when they did align and that is where I am most indebted.

You are brilliant, and the Earth is hiring.

Paul Hawken delivered this commencement speech to a 2009 graduating class hungry for hope.

Here is an appetizer...

There is invisible writing on the back of the diploma you will receive, and in case you didn't bring lemon juice to decode it, I can tell you what it says: You are Brilliant, and the Earth is Hiring. The earth couldn't afford to send recruiters or limos to your school. It sent you rain, sunsets, ripe cherries, night blooming jasmine, and that unbelievably cute person you are dating. Take the hint. And here's the deal: Forget that this task of planet-saving is not possible in the time required. Don't be put off by people who know what is not possible. Do what needs to be done, and check to see if it was impossible only after you are done.

When asked if I am pessimistic or optimistic about the future, my answer is always the same: If you look at the science about what is happening on earth and aren't pessimistic, you don't understand the data. But if you meet the people who are working to restore this earth and the lives of the poor, and you aren't optimistic, you haven't got a pulse. What I see everywhere in the world are ordinary people willing to confront despair, power, and incalculable odds in order to restore some semblance of grace, justice, and beauty to this world. The poet Adrienne Rich wrote, "So much has been destroyed I have cast my lot with those who, age after age, perversely, with no extraordinary power, reconstitute the world." There could be no better description. Humanity is coalescing. It is reconstituting the world, and the action is taking place in schoolrooms, farms, jungles, villages, campuses, companies, refuge camps, deserts, fisheries, and slums.

Now go get your main course.

We Are What We Eat

Daytime TV told me that people who take pictures of what they eat consume less calories than those who don't. I have spent the past year or so indulging more often than I should and blaming the baby is no longer really an option. Instead, my mommapal, R and I have decided to give this photodiet a shot. So far, the rules look like this:

We take pics of everything we eat and drink throughout the day.
We also take pics of any and all exercise/activities that will help make us healthier.
We email the pics to each other each night.
Every Monday, we take a pic of the number on the scale.

I'm pretty excited about this for a few reasons.

If we expect to achieve change in our lives, we need support. This is not a new concept for weight loss-- almost every program out there has an element of this, whether it be group meetings or having a personal consultant. The problem with these models is that while there is some support, there is no actual reliance. If I have a slice of cheesecake (or the whole thing for that matter), it does not affect anyone but me. In this situation, if I go off the deep-end it could be perceived as permission for my friend to do the same. Because isn't that what we do? We like to indulge together because it makes us feel less badly about our food transgressions. If I want my friend to be successful (and isn't it easier to want things like that for our friends than for ourselves?), I need to be successful.

By seeing what and how someone else eats, it can provide ideas and inspiration for me to expand my repertoire.

We get to be each other's cheerleaders and thus get immediate positive feedback for all the good we do. Since I'm a praise junkie, this is especially helpful.

In taking pictures of what we eat and do, it makes us more conscious of the choices we make and makes us more present-- no more shoving half a bag of chips in my face without thinking about it (who am I kidding, it's the whole bag. C's nearly lost fingers trying to get his hand in the bag.). I have to take the portion I desire, take a pic (and it's more fun when they look pretty), and then take responsibility for what I put in my body. It has also made me take the time to make myself look decent as I may be in some of these photos. Contacts are in, hair is styled, make-up is applied-- hey, I can go out in public and not feel like a pile of crap about it! When I look better, I feel better and I am more apt to treat myself better. The more I treat myself better, the better I will look and the better I look, the better I will feel... It's a delicious cycle. I want these pics to reflect who I WANT to be and by creating the conditions to take them, I BECOME her.

I'll let you know how it goes.

I wish I thought I could dance

When I was 10 or 11, I convinced my mom to enroll me in a Jazz class. Unfortunately, like gymnastics, tennis, Brownies, horseback riding, piano, and every other activity I had ever enrolled in up to that point in my life, I quit.

Why? I wasn't flexible, I wasn't as good as the other girls in the class, I thought the leotard made me look fat, I had to perform in front of people, and the mirrors we had to dance in front of ruined every image I had of myself as graceful and cute.

Shortly there after, I declared a moratorium on all things feminine. I was convinced I would always fall short as a girl and decided to try my hand at being a tomboy. I took up basketball and bought all my clothes in the guy's section. Fortunately, the 90's lent itself to this without too much attention being drawn my way.

Behind my closed bedroom door and in front of my own mirror (which reflected things much differently than the one in the dance studio), I danced and sang everyday. I got my cheerleader friends to teach me their routine after basketball practice. That year's Dance Mix (and later Much Dance) never left my boombox.

After turning 19, I was delighted to be able to go to the bar and dance. I know many girls use this as a medium through which to attract males. Not me. They cramped my style. I just wanted to dance. Just dance. Da-da-doo-doo-mmm j-j-just dance.

Since then, I have had very few opportunities to shake my groove thang. Last year I even signed up for a community hip-hop class for shits'n'giggles. Ask C, I practised the dances we learned all the time.

Today, though, I live vicariously through So You Think You Can Dance and America's Best Dance Crew. Most of the time, I am gobsmacked by their abilites. I am moved (to tears, to laughter, to gasps) by their movements. The odd time, however, I am overcome with jealousy that my body never learned to move that way-- that I will never be able to express myself as clearly as they do, not even in words. I know that I never could have been that good, but I sure do wish I would have tried.

Hammer Time?

I LOVE STREET THEATRE!

See more funny videos and TBT Videos at Today's Big Thing.

When the Economy Crumbles Make Econom-ade?

I do not feel sufficiently informed to pass judgment here, but like the idea of building a new system rather than repairing the old one...

"To get ourselves out of our current mess and create the world we want, we must reboot the economy with a new, values-based operating system designed to support social and environmental balance and the creation of real, living wealth. We have seen what happens when government and big business operate in secret. The new system must be open to public scrutiny and democratic control. Globalization and the harshest form of capitalism have eroded the bonds of community and created vast gaps in wealth between the richest and the poorest. The new system must be locally rooted in strong communities and distribute wealth equitably.

Our environment and our infrastructure have paid a terrible price for the belief that private interests must always win over public ones. A viable system must balance public and private interests. Unregulated speculation is at the root of the current crisis. Society is better served by a system that favors productive work and investment, limits speculation, and suppresses inflation in all forms-including financial bubbles."

What do you think?

What I should have said...

Last night at the party when you were disparaging the various neighbourhoods of our city, it seemed harmless enough (haven't we all made fun of the North End at some point or another?). But then when you were laughing you ass off about how funny it is to drive through North Central early in the morning looking at all the "crack-heads" coming off their highs, shaking in the middle of the road, I should have taken a cue from my friend who recently had an encounter with a douchebag with similar ideas about the inhumanity of addicts and said:

"That man is someone's son, perhaps someone's brother or uncle or father. That man is someone to someone even though he is no one to you. He is a person. As a child, he did not dream of one day becoming an addict so that he could entertain you on the way to your job. Something has gone terribly wrong for him and it is my hope that should something go terribly wrong for you, that some passerby will choose to extend a hand in help or at the very least take a moment to consider how lucky he is rather than kick you while you are down."

But I didn't say that. Instead, I sat there uncomfortably, hoping my raised eyebrows were enough to express my disagreement. After all, we were in polite company and I didn't want to turn my friend's party into something political. As if my silence were somehow neutral.

It is so funny to me that on the same day Oprah featured the authors of Tweak and Beautiful Boy in order to highlight the tragedy of addiction that this conversation would arise. Once again, apparently it is only tragic if you are of the middle class-- if things were supposed to go differently for you. If people could have predicted your descent into addiction at your birth (because of your socio-economic status or family situation), it is not tragic. You are simply meeting your destiny as perceived by the privileged. You do not deserve our empathy because you had it coming.

My aforemention friend did say something to that effect when she stumbled upon a facebook photoalbum in which a friend was tagged that included the following photos:

A homeless man passed out on a bench.
A couple of middle-class white males posing with the homeless man, mocking him.
The mcwm's posing with their bare asses next to his face.
The mcwm's dragging the man into their apartment building.
The mcwm's with the man in the elevator.
The mcwm's pretending to unrinate on the man.

My friend did not know the creator of the album personally but did send him a message letting him know what she thought of it all.

This ability to distance ourselves from those "not like us"-- to deny others humanity-- is responsible for virtually every injustice in this world-- from genocide to the murders of Pamela George and Larry Moser. How is it that last night I was able to convince myself that it was harmless enough for me to sit silent? I know better and I could hardly sleep for the guilt. All I can do is write this entry and promise myself that next time I'll say what I should say.

If you don't have anything intelligent to say, don't say anything at all

Recently, I have had more time to do things like read the paper. Yes, I read our local paper. Yes, I know it is awful. I get it for free online because I'm a teacher. That's my only excuse.

Reading the paper today, I read YET ANOTHER poorly written "Viewpoint." I am all for hearing the opinions of everyday people (so much so, that as an everyday person, I write this blog and think it matters). I desire to hear from the various sides on current events, local, national, or global. I love it when I believe I have my brain wrapped around an issue only to have it unraveled by the keen insight or unique perspective of another regular citizen. ONLY THIS NEVER HAPPENS IN OUR PAPER. OK, maybe "never" is too strong... but rarely.

I'm not even all that concerned about the grammar-- I frequently break grammatical rules (sometimes for style, sometimes because I'm too lazy to go back and fix it, sometimes because I'm in a rush, and sometimes because I don't even realize I'm doing it). It's the lack of logic and critical thinking that really bugs me. Just because you say something is does not make it so. You can't make up statistics or use what you THINK might be the case for the basis of an argument. Most of all, if you have no information on the issue, you should consider getting some before writing a letter to be published for all of the city to see.

So the next time I have a student ask me, "Why do we have to write an essay/write a journal entry/read an essay/read a book/read a short story/read poetry/share a response/give a speech anyway? It's not like I'll ever use it in real life..." I will grab a copy of our pathetic local paper, rip out the letters to the editor, force that student to read them aloud, and then declare:

Because one day, whether you can conceive of it or not, you WILL care about something strongly enough to want to express those feelings. It might not be to the paper, but it might be to a company, your employer, a friend, a parent, a lover, a spouse, a celebrity, the government-- it doesn't matter. It might not even be in writing-- perhaps you will prefer to speak your mind. But the fact remains, you WILL find yourself in the position of wanting to express your passion for a subject. AND IF YOU CAN'T FRAME AN ARGUMENT, CONSTRUCT A SIMPLE SENTENCE, OR REASON YOUR WAY OUT OF A WET PAPER BAG, NO ONE WILL TAKE YOU SERIOUSLY! You may feel more deeply about this topic than about anything else in your entire life, you may even have a really good point, but none of that will matter. Your thoughts and ideas, if not well expressed, will be filed in the recycling bin and forgotten (before or after they are thoroughly mocked). You might as well not have said anything at all. And that's the saddest* thing I can think of.**


* Yes. There are probably other things sadder, but I was not thinking of them at that moment.

**I realize that sentence started with "And" and ended in a preposition. "That's the saddest thing of which I can think" just didn't have the same ring.

And in today's news...

Accused of practising law without being a lawyer, man represents himself
Leader-Post staff
Leader-Post
02 Jun 2009

A man accused of providing legal advice or services for a fee or reward, even though he is not a lawyer will be taking his case to trial. Blaine Collins, 41, appeared in Regina Provincial Court on Monday to set his charges under the Legal Profession... read more...



I can't decide if this is incredibly ironic or perfectly appropriate...

Live Your Best Life EVER

I have been known to watch Oprah. I have even been known to watch Oprah and like it. Sometimes, I even use her show as a platform for conversation. Now, I don't ALWAYS like what Oprah is discussing and frequently delete episodes after reading the info blurb on my PVR because it is just too trite or boring.

I am ambivalent about the woman and her show.

I believe she has more power than any other woman on earth and that she can use it for good and sometimes does. I realize no one can be perfect all the time and that we all have our own guilty pleasures and indulgences-- we just don't display them on international television.

It bothers me, though, that rather than being on the cutting edge in terms of significant societal issues, she waits until they affect the middle and upper classes to care. It bothers me, too, that she rarely revisits topics to explore them in any more depth and instead acts as if one hour of television (minus commercial breaks) is enough to do... anything. I am also irked by the fact that she promotes consumption in the way that she does-- as a cure all. It's easy to see it doesn't work, because Oprah herself still manages to have so many issues.

But that's why we love her, right? Because she is evidence that we are all imperfect, even the most billionaire-ic among us.

One thing that I have appreciated about her show is that she resists a positivist view of the world. She is willing to go out on a limb and support things that mainstream culture would poo-poo without her endorsement. I think this life is about exploration and asking questions for which there is no one answer. I believe that the universe has secrets we will never understand, in the healing powers of "energy" (though not to the extreme degree of The Secret) and alternative ways of knowing.

I do not believe that there is a "cure" for aging. I do not believe that vaccinations cause autism. I don't believe celebrities have any real authority on any issues other than the paparazzi and their next big movie/album/show.

This article is an interesting read and I think, probably troubled a lot of people's notions of Oprah.

Here's a portion:

Oprah routinely grabs viewers with the sort of tales of the strange and absurd that might be found a few clicks over on Maury Povich or Jerry Springer: women who leave their husbands for other women (another recent Oprah episode); a 900-pound mom (ditto). But there is a difference. Oprah makes her audience feel virtuous for gaping at the misfortunes of others. What would be sniffed at as seamy on Maury is somehow praised as anthropology on Oprah. This is Oprah's special brilliance. She is a gifted entertainer, but she makes it seem as though that is beside the point. Oprah is not here to amuse you, she is here to help you. To help you understand your feelings; drop those unwanted pounds; look and feel younger; get your thyroid under control; to smooth your thighs, nip and tuck your wrinkles, awaken your senses and achieve spiritual tranquillity so that you can at last be free to "Live Your Best Life."

Oprah takes these things very seriously. They are, after all, the answers she hopes to find for herself. If Oprah has an exquisite ear for the cravings and anxieties of her audience, it is because she shares them. Her own lifelong quest for love, meaning and fulfillment plays out on her stage each day. In an age of information overload, she offers herself as a guide through the confusion.

Her viewers follow her guidance because they like and admire her, sure. But also because they believe that Oprah, with her billions and her Rolodex of experts, doesn't have to settle for second best. If she says something is good, it must be.


While insightful in many areas, my issue with the article is that it sends the attitude that anything "alternative" to the mainstream is completely whackadoo. I'm not going to pretend to know whether Suzanne Somers is a quack or a pioneer, but I do agree with both of these women when they assert that if menopause were a male "change of life" that its symptoms would have been addressed by the "science" community long ago. There is a happy medium between choosing The Secret as your cure for cancer and thinking only science can answer life's questions-- I just wish the media could find it.

I also wonder if Newsweek is any less guilty of shallow investigation, trend-jumping and the use of pop-pseudo science for sensational headlines. And have they ever criticized Bill Gates or other billionaires for using their influence and claiming to be experts in areas where they really don't know their heads from their asses? Or are they immune because they are white males who appeal to other white males? Newsflash, Billy-Boy, the "factory model" of education fell out of favour decades ago because some Einstein figured out that because we're not starting with the same raw material we can't possibly expect the same end product. Don't get me wrong, you make some valid points-- like the fact that supervision is necessary to produce a stronger teaching force and that teachers are really what makes the difference-- but there is no standardized test that will prove who is a master teacher and who is not. Human behaviour with respect to education is better measured by qualitative research than quantitative.

My Lovely Lady Lumps

It is less than 4 weeks until C, N, and I board a plane for Big Island to see Grandma Honey and Papa Mike. I am beyond excited. There are few things in this world more relaxing than our visits there. Playing Scrabble, lying on the beach, reading novels (oh-- I better go pick a couple up-- any recommends?)... I know it will be different with a little one, but I'm still confident it will be great.

In preparing for this journey, I have had to research sunscreens for N and make list after list of what she will need to make her journey go as smoothly as possible. One thing that didn't appear on any of the lists but it seems will sneak along is my bathing-suit-body-image. As a feminist and a 21st Century woman, I really wish I did not care how I looked in a bathing suit. Is there anything more petty to be concerned about? I can't think of anything. Now, more than ever, though, I recognize how unhealthy my feelings toward my body are because I will never forgive myself if I pass them onto my daughter.

So to try to combat my unwelcome travel partner, here are some positive thoughts about my bod...

Starting at the top-

I love the colour of my hair. I used to use chemicals to try to improve it, but the fact is, nothing can improve on this.

I have fantastic eyebrows-- full without being bushy and enough to shape beautifully.

My eyes, though myopic, have enabled me to see some pretty incredible things, not the least of which is my daughter.

My cheeks enhance my smile and help to communicate the joy in my heart.

My nose... smells... good?

My ears hear well, and look fine because of my amazing hair.

My lips-- they speak, they kiss, they smile-- what's not to love?

My chin showed up on N's face and that makes me very proud.

My collarbone and shoulders have great angles.

My breasts are bigger now than they have ever been AND provide all the nourishment my little girl needs. Pretty cool.

My belly stretched to carry life and then returned to its pre-stretched state without complaint or effort.

My hips and butt are ample and in some cultures (as well as in my husband's eyes), that is desirable.

My legs carry me everywhere I need to go without complaint and my right one declares my bff status with my sister from another mister JMR.

My feet have endured so much pain over the years-- toe after broken toe-- but still keep me firmly planted on this earth.

And let's face it, while my body image issues should not affect my feelings of self-worth, I haven't taken the time to care for myself properly since N was born. So with that, I will take my negative vibes and turn them into motivation to get strong and healthy (scale be damned).