Always Something

See! Les Nom Des Gens

2012-02-15T07:26:00.000-08:00

Of course, the description will tell you that it's about left wing Baya who will sleep with right wing men to convince them to fight the good fight. This provocative, highly sexual approach at a summary attempting to draw many in is initially what pushed me away from Les Noms des Gens, or The Name of Love in English. In the middle of a sleepless night I gave in & decided it would a least be worth starting. Les Noms is as much about sex as Juno is about pregnancy: not really at all. The true story is a tender and critical look at patriotism & politics.

I was disturbed that Baya may turn into too much of a Manic Pixie Dream Girl, but her strength as a character kept the movie anchored. Baya is the dream that you think about after you wake up. She marries illegal immigrants to get them citizenship and is impossibly well connected despite humble roots. Never before have I seen such a perfect merger of painful reality with absurdist humor. Fans of Amelie will gush over something a little more "real life" & less sepia toned.

I always think I will get so much typing accomplished when I am sick, because I'm just sitting around, right? It feels like my brain was stuffed like my nose, because I scrawled two measly sentences & crashed into bed. But watching this movie turned it back on; contrasting disturbing realities about heritage & citizenship with dreams of Paris in technicolour. Baya truly owns the movie, while Arthur is simply a vessel of a character that we explore her questions through. How do you recognize your own country? How can change actually happen?

Every line crafted with brilliance, and the way ends are tied up make you laugh & clap & shout. I would strongly recommend Les Noms Des Gens, even if you aren't a fan of the initial idea. This isn't really about sex. It's almost not even really about politics. This may be a love story, but it's to a people, not a person.

(Available on Netflic Canada)

3 Years

2012-02-13T03:18:00.000-08:00

When I was about sixteen years old, a girl I was kind of friends with regularly got beat up. I suspect it was by her boyfriend. I'll probably never know.

I almost didn't write about this. I'm too predictable a feminist; I get angry at all the things the media tells me to. Besides, it's like everyone knows not to beat up their girlfriends. We take it as a given. Violence is so passé, so we can go back to critiquing the role of Miranda in The Tempest & make ironic tumblrs about rape culture. It felt, & does feel, exploitative to talk about her. We shared smiles & sighs, but not much else. I had her on MSN, back when Myspace was weird and I couldn't imagine Facebook yet. I never went over to her house. We were bored of everything. She, let's call her A, was a lot cooler than me, so I justified not acting like her best friend by assuming someone else would deal with what was so obvious. It seems like no one did. Maybe she wasn't that popular. Maybe I was just looking for an excuse not to move.

Sure, maybe it wasn't her boyfriend. Maybe it was her mom. Maybe she really loved Fight Club. I only know that she got the shit kicked out of her, & that mainly happening during the periods that she was with him.

Try asking someone you only ever exchange snide remarks about popular music with (the teenager version of pleasantries) if the guy she says reminds her of a love song (Led Zeppelin II, bien sur) caused the cigarette burns on her arms. It could have been a night of excessive drinking dares until you notice she's nervous all of the time. She doesn't eat like you, so it's not unreasonable to assume self infliction, but she never mentioned practicing TaeKwonDo like you until her collar bone is bruised...

Here is a list of things that I care about more than the Grammys:

-Why CBC plays Nickelback before Hockey Night in Canada

-Any given article that could appear when you hit random on Wikipedia

-Why my dog gets so terrified when I blow into a bottle

But still.

A bunch of people much sassier, smarter, & with more of a following than me have already spoken out about why Chris Brown is still a dirtbag even if it was "three years ago", but I still heard people cheering someone who beat up a woman, no matter how much I turned up The Simpsons.

Maybe you think it's okay, some big joke even, because celebrities aren't really human, not like you & I. Maybe you think whatever gets published in TMZ is fair game. I don't know. I guess this phenomenon goes both ways; it's so easy to get outraged at what you see on television. It's a convenient, safe, outlet to express disgust. On TV, you don't have to tell Rhianna, who you only kind of know, that you're worried about her. The disconnect can make the choice easy. You don't have to look anyone in the eye. If the people on TV don't like you, well, that won't happen because they'll never know you. I still don't know why I never said anything about A; I tried to justify preserving a friendship that never really existed. Like A with her boy, I just wanted to be liked. I didn't want to start crap. A was real.

Maybe it's Jesus or maybe it's a whole other kind of worship, but I never completely realized the culture of forgiveness we lived in until I heard "It's okay, he apologized" time after time after time last night. It's easy to pass off outrage as angry chickens clucking when they're mad about something on TV, but why did A decide to take back a douchebag who broke her heart & maybe two of her fingers? Good girls can definitely chaaaange him!

If they try hard enough.

Nice girls forgive & nice girls forget.

Redemption.

We love underdogs. CBC decides some guy with money can give it to ex cons because it's edgy and it will get people watching. Forgiveness is okay on screen, as long as it's not in our neighbourhood, but we don't think for a second that it ever could be. Comebacks are sexy because they always involve makeovers. Falling down is just part of getting higher. I do not think that people need to be branded as evil & set away from society forever, but to accept people who have made mistakes & to elevate them to the point that they are considered entertaining are very different things.

In school we learn websites to go to, but they're just free bookmarks we may or may not use. We need to empower communities to the point that when one points out that another is suffering, it does not feel like an accusation. There should not be shame in getting hurt. Girls need to know that it's okay not to forgive, that it doesn't make us mean bitchy people, but just more who have had their trust betrayed, and that's completely okay. Anyone who has enough love, no matter how conflicted, to try to forgive is someone who can be the pillar of our country. Truly, they can do the greatest things. We just need to teach them that sorry isn't enough.

What's three years anyway? What would you say to a man who decided his emotions were more important than a woman's face three years ago? Would you tell your best friend that he said sorry? Your daughter? Some girl you shared a break with once? What could have possibly changed in three years?

Funny, because it was also three years ago that I saw A working at Tim Horton's. I was on a date; we both smiled awkwardly. I didn't ask about any relationships. She didn't make eye contact with me. We both pretended we'd talk again. She was still much prettier than me, so she probably had lots of friends to help her through any tough times she was having, right?

Right?

I hope she can forgive me too.

If you need number to call, there's a lot, but here's one that warns you about browser history. If you're a bit younger, this might be more helpful.

I was looking for a website with warning signs of physical abuse, but truth be told I didn't really find one that was very good, so I am very open to suggestions.

The image above in my own screencap from Les Nom des Gens, which is excellent.

Embracing Monday

2012-02-06T15:02:00.000-08:00

How the heck do puppies lead to existentialism??!

An mental crisis following the death of my grandfather coupled with a raging fever caused by too many walks with a certain impatient pug currently keeps me far too inside of my apartment has led to a self indulgent "quest for knowledge" that I assume will be resolved in a Wikipedia article or two. It's tricky to attempt to think outside of the box when there are so many boxes out there to potentially think in. Skepticism aside, taking the time to actually read about the conclusions that have made up the assumptions I make today has at the very least been interesting. When sharing my newfound critical anti esssentialist rheotoric of the absurd or whatever sounds smart with Luke, he told me that the Sobey's logo has the word "obey" in it.

Ouff. & then I go back to cat photos....

***

There are no abortion services in Prince Edward Island! What? WHAT? Get on it, Internet! I know you can help Kandace do this! I know that abortion is a touchy subject for some of you, but allow me to plea to your reason. What if you were told you could build a home but no one would sell you land? What if you were told you lived in a country where everyone ate and you were constantly denied access to food? Extreme examples illustrate how unethical it is to say one thing and then prevent it. I know we are all fighting for equality together, and sometimes that has to happen in a variety of ways.

/endplea

PS: It doesn't have to turn into this!

How to make Twilight readable via Chelsea

I've been in the news lately because I don't have a car. Isn't that great?

'A town where green thumbs, not sticky fingers, prevails' because that's such a great tagline.

Of course, the day after the Super Bowl I am reading about beer. Ughhhhhh.

I've never shopped at Mark's Work Warehouse before, but after this reaction to their treatment of Canadian workers, everyone I know will be getting warm socks & plaid shirts next Christmas.

I will do all of these. All. You will mock me, but I will. Especially the Canadian flag one.

@jjsteeves is relevant to everyone's lives.

Really craving gofer cakes right now for some reason...

A freed black man writes a letter to his former master, and I cry a lot a lot a lot.

"Why have a civilization if we're no longer interested in being civilized?!" Yep, this looks like the best movie about killing people who are really annoying with upbeat music in the background ever.

& finally, my favourite Wanderlust inspiring hobby since my life has consisted of bed 24/7 for the past 3 days...

The start of something new: Always Getting Better

2012-02-02T07:10:00.000-08:00

Here's a funny story that isn't that funny at all but I'll say funny because of the timing:

Fifteen minutes ago, I heard someone call one of their friends (? I use this word loosely) a 'skitzo' because she is "fake" and "pretends to be a different person around different people." The over the top educator in me was all OH NO, that's not schizophrenia at all, while the human in me was sad that people who probably don't understand the effects of their words choose to use such loaded terms. I said "That's not cool." I got weird looks. I look like the girl who hates everyone and everything. I angry tweeted, because that's just what you do, and then I texted K. Because she's great.

The doctor's office can be scary, as if admitting defeat to... well... yourself somehow means you've failed someone. Although nothing can replace the advice of a professional, my maverick friend and longtime contributor Katharine Alaska (affectionately K) has been grappling with life during recovery for a while, and though she's no expert on the science behind it, I think she's a pretty great example of a living being seeing the world with new eyes. Hopefully, she can get you to reconsider some of your choices or unmotivations in getting healthy. If she can't, well, she can probably still make you laugh or grin.

Always Getting Better will be a new regular series devoted to talking about issues in mental health, answering questions about how to help, and just spewing off on ignorance when it needs to happen. You can reach K through the comments, or by tossing me an email.

-Allison

Here’s the thing.

The women here have written deftly on mental illness and on body image and empowerment and now I want nothing more than to share with you the things that make me happy to be alive every day, pertaining to all of that.

Here is the most important thing I have ever, ever learned to say: I love myself.

That’s a big thing for me say. I mean BIG.

I know that all women struggle with the issue of self love, but when you suffer from the inside, in a way that drives you to the very edges of sanity the hatred you have for yourself consumes your entire being.

I’m sure that every person who has suffered from some form of mental illness has a point in their lives when they are sure it’s all over. It may come early, like for me or it may take until you are in you’re in your 50s like many of the people I have been treated alongside. The thing is we hit the point of seeming no return and too many don’t make it past, not whole at least.

I, for one, will always be a little afraid of knives and guns and the memory of a time not too long ago will send me into dizzying fits of tears and shame. The truth is, that the love that I have for myself is so much stronger now that I have known what it is to hate myself so completely.

We learn things in treatment that sound like bullshit when you’re sick but that I have found are the most honest things I’ve ever been told. I want to go back to that place and look everyone in the eyes and say, “write this stuff down, you may not see the use now but you will want all of this when you start to see yourself healing”

That’s just it- learning about Cognitive Behavioral Therapy, basically the effect that changing the way you understand yourself intellectually has on your wellness sounded logical but out of touch when I was there but daily, I combat my own mind using the tactics that a sweet Philipina nurse gave me. I was also taught that the more you say something, the more you believe it which was exemplified by my crying every night and telling myself I was never going to heal. Now I write every single day in the mirror in my bathroom and the fogged window in my shower “Love yourself” “Love life” “You are amazing”, ugh, it sounds so cheesy but that’s just the kind of thing that I find myself doing now that I’m well on the road to healing. Things are not perfect, I get hung up on boys, I have academic failures and nights when I’m so anxious I don’t want to go out but the honest truth is that things turn around.

You can train yourself to love your faults and be proud of your smallest successes.

I treat myself, too. Not with things that are big or unrealistic but I give myself time to do things that better my life. I learn to do things, I write letters and allow myself to sit in cafes, alone for hours just because I want to. All of these are ways to practice self love.

How do you take care of yourself?

In solidarity and strength

Katherine Alaska

***

Some images, explained:

Sunshine! I make a point to force myself to be outside, especially when it's sunny. In the dead of winter, a little vitamin D and fresh air goes a long way!
Fruit/veggies- I roast asparagus like it's my job. It feels good to make something simple that I'm genuinely going to enjoy every bite of. Fruit also rocks my world, be careful if you take medication, though- grapefruit affects the body's metabolism of some meds. Ask your doctor if you should cut it out!
Make conscious food decisions! I became a weekday vegetarian, which has given me lots of energy and pride in knowing that I'm take care of my glorious body!
Adventure. I am always exploring, driving through big puddles with my car on the way out to the bay to birdwatch, hike and just be outside with people I love! It makes my life so much better than if I stayed inside!
Indulge, man. Read books all day on Sunday, sit in a cafe for hours when you get off work, learn something new, drink chocolate soymilk for no reason and don't count the calories!
A's ending note: May I suggest this?

Embracing Monday

2012-01-30T06:01:00.000-08:00

Some people find winter depressing, but I get more and more enthused. About silly things. Like socks. Because I HAVE to have something to be happy about! So although I giggled at the jokes told at the NDP leadership debate yesterday, and shrieked over the ugly but awesome printed dress that I picked up on Saturday, overall, my favourite thing about this week was the four pairs of brand spanking new striped socks that I picked up. Of course, as this is Halifax, I have to wear all four pairs together, but you know, it's the little things...

***
-"When Mike Birbiglia asked This American Life‘s Ira Glass to produce his first feature, Sleepwalk with Me, premiering here at Sundance, Glass thought it sounded like it might be fun. “I’d read a couple of scripts, look at a couple of rough cuts,” he remembers thinking."

-One of the only reasons I would like a car.

-I've admired everything Faith does for quite some time, and now you can too!

-Badass libraries. Yes. Actually. Badass libraries.

-I've actually wanted to be related to Joe Biden for a very long time.

-Why "hot as shit" isn't enough. What does that even mean by the way? THINK ABOUT IT. Gross visuals.

-I'm starting to realize that I can do almost anything on my phone. Montage Pro app is absolutely amazing; it's like Photoshop for those of us who never 'got' Photoshop. On my phone!

-I wish Pantone made everything ever, but until that happens I'll settle for stealing Nubby's iPhone case.

-This is such a classic 'me' link, so of course I was thrilled when Rachel sent this to me.

-“There is nothing more honourless than the deliberate murder of, in the case of Mohammad Shafia, three of his daughters and his wife, in the case of Tooba Yahya, three of her daughters and a stepmother to all her children, in the case of Hamed Shafia, three of his sisters and a mother.”

-One of the only reasons I want a labeller.

-“The need for understanding the illness, the real needs of a person with mental illness, their necessary supports, ways of handling the person and hope are the key elements in a healthy approach to mental illness." he said. "Mental illness is very hidden in India. There is practically no preparation in society whatsoever to participate in the recovery process of the mentally ill.”

-I don't think I could do a better list of things that you really have to hear from my homeland.

-There seem to be an unusually high number of Williams on this list. Are you reading this, little brother in engineering?

-With the bus strike looming in Halifax, this makes more and more sense. I love my neighbourhood because I can walk to anything in the city... too bad my school is just outside of the city. It always amazes me when people drive their cars to the gym to get on the treadmill. Except in the winter. Trust me, I getcha.

-Ridiculous amounts of class, plus a little snark.

-I can't believe anyone thinks this is a good idea. What happens on slower weeks? I love when people who clearly don't pay rent make decisions for those who do.

-& although it seems I will be in Halifax for February break, two websites that remind me of one of my favourite cities: Montreal.
(Seriously Gomez?)

An Invitation

2012-01-27T06:55:00.000-08:00

I'm not the only one whose first love was the Internet.

Long before I had discovered any kind of person crush, the Internet gained my trust with Audrey Hepburn & people who understood not liking Aaron Carter, which was a big, stick out deal at the time. The Internet subsequently broke my heart when it showed me famine all over the world. It was no longer one photo on the front of a newspaper; after link after link of hungry children was a huge shock to my preteen system. Mass suffering wasn't real to me until I saw it online. The first time I ever saw the Internet, it was helping me play the game that came with the Microsoft Encarta encyclopedia, which was my favourite thing. Ever. Unlike the kids at school, the Internet told me that was okay to crave knowledge.

In many ways, the Internet knows me better than most people ever will. I've asked it all of the personal questions I was ashamed to admit I didn't know the answer to. From YouTube clips of Audrey Hepburn to long nights of reading endless Wikipedia articles about the history of baseball, it has shaped my entire being. It taught me how to get too skinny, but introduced me to people who have helped me recover. It made me hate & love; myself, politicians, style, & the world. It hasn't replaced human contact for me by any means. It does not embrace me, but rather IS; the closest thing to an omnipotent being that science has created thus far.

I write this love letter because I am saddened to see the Internet reduced to a place where people commit mental bulimia, binging an purging useless information. Parents are terrified of it, but with reason. On the news, Internet users are mean and evil. You become the only person with common sense. Every kid has a Blackberry, but we all treat is like some shady alley. First there was cyberbullying, then there was sexting... To me, "thinspo" has been around since the beginning of time. In our minds, it's place to go instead of a tool to use.

I'm just as scared as you. Knowing how much more advanced this technology will be by the time I decide to give birth will make me want to lock any potential children up and insist in quill & ink always, forever. But in reality, what isn't working is our attitude towards the Internet. Parents monitor their children and look for suspicious activity instead of encouraging creativity. Minds are limited. The Internet becomes seen as a playground, with rules that are just begging to be broken. It's hard to visualize it as anything beyond a social network with boundaries, when there is so much potential to share & succeed.

I'm not encouraging that precautions be dropped; just that potential be met. When my parents handed me Microsoft Encarta, they had no idea that my love of information would one day turn into a love of blogging, which got me in a famous teen magazine, which connected me to Campaign School for Women, which helped me start numerous protests and drives for change, which guided me as I set up a STAND chapter, and which inspired me to speak at the Girls 2012 conference on this very topic.

More Than Sexting encourages a new view of the challenges and opportunities of being online in a positive way. This is not a class on safety, though that will be touched, but a lecture on inspiring young creative writers, self publishing, and the democratization of the ability to express yourself. Participants will learn about various kinds of social media, but more importantly, how to actually create change using them. Interviews with successful feminist bloggers, hands on approach to writing, and analysing the benefit of social media in different cultural revolutions (not just the ones you've already heard about, I promise) will all come together in an hour long workshop devoted to analysing how so many of us become afraid of the Internet yet use it all of the time.

I hope to see you there.

March 9th & 10th at Mount Saint Vincent University in Halifax

Please feel free to e-mail me for more information.

What I Know So Far: Job Interviews

2012-01-25T06:35:00.000-08:00

(for what it's worth, the top one is Wolfville & the second is Canso)

All could think about before my first “professional” interview was American Psycho.
Fortunately, I was not terrified enough to be worried about serial killers, but more the 1980s yuppie view of professionalism that I thought an agency was sure to offer. I knew cliché answers were bad, but what else could I say was my worst quality other than “working too hard”? Should I mention that I can get a reservation at Dorsia?

Going into my first co-op position I had a very stale view of what the professional world was like. 9-5 was okay to me, and I was gathering more and more dated looking blazers every time I went to Value Village hoping to fit in. I've had four (4!!!) requests for a post about how to ace a job interview in the past few months, and because it's the start of hunting season (oops, I mean co-op season) at my school as well as the Be Part of Something Big campaign, I thought now was as good a time as ever to dispel some of the myths I had in mind. Sure, there were definitely long hours on hold with someone from x corporation and y corporation, and I want to kill all photocopiers ever, but all of my co-op experiences were almost completely, and I mean completely, different from what I expected them to be. In my first co-op, I drove around Nova Scotia going to different farmer's markets and professional centres to be point that I made myself a travel scrapbook. (I even developed a signature pose! See!) I spent most of the summer in shorts & getting up at 5 am. I went to music festivals for non profits, I organized cupcake competitions for organizations, and I got to hold a press conference with break dancers about half my age.

See? I didn't learn how to keep my eyes open for photos though... Next time!

Yes, I am still in school, and all of my interviews so far have only been for 4 month internships and co-ops, so maybe I don’t have a clue what the “REAL real world” is like, but I do remember the panic and nervousness of sitting in the waiting room, and the “What, are you actually serious?” feeling when you read over the cheesy handouts that were given to me at job training workshops. They almost always ended with “Smile & relax! Interviews are supposed to be fun!” No, I’m calling shenanigans on that one. Job interviews are when multiple people fight to the death (well, almost) for one sacred position that they are all interested in so that they may fill their stomachs with edibles and their resumes with pretty words about themselves. So yes, smiling and relaxing is definitely necessary, but stop patronizing me laminated hand out. STOP PATRONIZING ME.

Of course, there is no solid formula for a job interview, but I’m going to go quite in depth on the basics. As someone who has been interviewed many times, and even been able to interview a few times, I have a pretty solid understanding of what they’re looking for by now. I hope. So put down your stupid useless laminated piece of “know everything and be nice!” sunshiney document and let me give it to you straight:

What you do know & maybe you don’t about interviews:

-They will almost definitely ask you what you know about the company. And yes, everyone knows how to use Google by now, so memorizing the one slogan from your iPhone five minutes before won’t do it. When they ask you about it, be specific. Mention programs they have, what they do, any partners and clients, and maybe even some things that were in the news about them recently. Don’t forget the basics! If they’re bilingual, even though almost every government service is, mention it! If they’re a non profit, make sure you say non profit! They can’t give you credit for what you don’t mention. Most interviews have a formula where they write down exactly what you tell them and "score" it; they don’t just randomly pick whoever they liked best.

-Do not, not, not say um or like, no matter how casual the interview is. You will inevitably say each once or twice, but practice omitting those words from your vocabulary.

-Bring a portfolio of your best work and mention what you specifically did to help. For example, if you styled a photoshoot but also blogged about it after, mention both! Talk yourself up! You’re awesome! Post it notes are a godsend for this; don’t count on yourself to remember.

-Employers are both much more and much less detail oriented than you think. No, they will probably not notice your chipped nail polish but yes, they will notice the half washed off bar stamp on the back of your hand. Pay attention to yourself.

-Lock down your Facebook & etc. Defriend your most honest friend (the almost boring kind of honest, not the finger snap "IM JUSS SAYING" kind) and get them to check it out for you. See if you’re friends with anyone at the organization. But of course, everything on the Internet is accessible to everyone if they try hard enough, so you might want to rethink that tequila fueled cell phone photo shoot, but if you reaaaalllly must at least make sure you have it as impossible to get to as possible & be ready to accept if it's the reason you didn't get the job.

-Chances are, they will ask you about your interests. If they’re super sneaky, they might want to know what books you read recently, or who you might like to meet for dinner. These answers are always weak, and that’s because people always either try to come up with something clever and fail, or aren’t prepared. Saying “reading” is never enough; what do you like reading about? Do you write letters to transit and like architecture? That’s urban planning. How about an actual hobby, like ice skating? Don’t just say the first thing to come off the top of your head. You’re allowed to think for a second. I know you’re interesting and charming, so make sure you show them that!

-Have a good question about the company at the end. Maybe ask about a recent media issue, about what they’re looking for in a good candidate, or what their favourite thing about working for that organization is. Ask them about what it’s like to work there. Just ask them something, and not about salary.

-If you are under 30, everyone wants to hear you’re good with people and computers. I promise, this is likely why they are hiring you. They want you to explain THE Twitter to them. They want you to know something they don’t. And then want you to be nice when you explain it from their, so their social media strategy is not help captive to some snot nosed teenager who thinks they're almighty just because they can log into Facebook. You can intimidate employers too, y'know.

-Use the word outreach if you’ve ever been at a trade show, represented your company, cold called, etc. It sounds really professional, and it’s the new buzzword. (Pssst! ‘Synergy’ is dying! Don’t be a cliché!)

-Listen to yourself. Don’t babble on, but make sure you have fully answered the question they have asked. If you find yourself just saying one sentence, maybe you want to elaborate in certain areas just to best represent yourself.

-What to wear is everyone’s favourite stressor, but I really can’t emphasize enough how much it varies from place to place. I find the two safest choices are a sheath dress, cardigan or blazer, and tights or a colourful dress shirt, black knee length skirt, and tights. Yes, I am biased towards women's clothing (not just for women! I'm not judging!) but I'm not going to pretend I have any experience wearing men's clothes to an interview. Ask someone else. Ladies; basically, just definitely wear tights. I know people will tell you to not be too colourful, but I see nothing wrong with a solid, bright colour like a royal blue dress shirt or an emerald green cardigan or something of the sorts. I know that when I’m nervous, I wear too much black & gray and feel like I’m my 14 year old goth self again. Use your smarts, err on the side of caution, and just be okay. Prepare your answers well enough & it won’t matter.

-I’m not going to get into the debate as to whether you should e-mail them a thank you note or send them a handwritten one. I have only ever e-mailed, and it was always more than adequate because it was timely, which I feel is the most important thing. Whichever one you go with, just make sure you do something to let the employer know how much you appreciated their time. Generic interviews are for generic people, and I know that you are anything but. Good luck!

Embracing Monday: What This Means

2012-01-22T20:35:00.000-08:00

Everything I commit to type is everything I want to scream but can't.

Somehow I've felt as if I could separate who I was on the Internet and who I was in real life, even though if they're the same person, which they are, they will eventually collide. Recently, Mount Saint Vincent did a profile on me. Yes, really. No, I don't know why either, but they made me sound pretty awesome, like the type of person I'd like to get to know. Thanks guys. Thanks.

But this means something bigger than being featured on a website.

This means admitting to the kids in high school that I never really felt like I belonged.

This means the world can read that I always felt different.

This means my political opinions are suddenly attached to a living, breathing being with plenty of flaws.

This means admitting what I actually think about.

This means my acquaintances might think me flightly or frivolous because I'm not always discussing economic development or occupy or urban cores.

This means my extended family possibly gossiping about my mental state, or how I'm not so perfect after all.
Finally, this means my parents might read about nights that I spent nights lying in my bed, not quite about to push my body into another session of vomiting but silently crying and hating myself because I hate fried chicken. This means owning up to years of disordered eating that I somehow thought would make up for exercise.

This might mean an awkward conversation or two.

But this means change.

This means my father knowing that when I tell him I'm mocking everything he says, I'm actually just sharing them because I think he's the coolest father ever.

This means my mother realizing that maybe my interests aren't actually all that different from hers, because she shaped me & I love her for it.

This means every part of me actually owns what I say.

So hi mom, hi dad. I hope you're proud of me. Hi classmates who stopped me in the halls to tell me my piece about self harm affected them more deeply than they know. Hi boyfriend, who already reads this, but might actually write for it now.

Hi everyone, my name is Allison, and I actually believe everything I say.
Now say hi yourself.

If you're new to this website, may I suggest you start here?

If not, please click through to the typical Monday links.

Wikipedia Search: Theodor Adorno

10 Ways to get Youth Involved in Politics

A Homeless Man Called Me Names Today

What It's Like to Be Diagnosed with a Mental Illness
What it's like to be living in New Orleans after The Storm

***

-Maybe your building doesn't have laundry, or maybe you're super into your denim. Either way, this is cool.

-"Moore's law describes a long-term trend in the history of computing hardware: the number of transistors that can be placed inexpensively on an integrated circuit doubles approximately every two years. The period often quoted as "18 months" is due to David House, an Intel executive, who predicted that period for a doubling in chip performance (being a combination of the effect of more transistors and them being faster.)"

-I want to see one of Canada from the provinces' perspectives.

-This is a fairly old interview, but I think Romeo Dallaire is one of the boldest & most intelligent Canadians, and I am so interested in anything he says.

-I'm always an advocate of learning new things, but code always seemed daunting until now.

-In case, like me, you never get an actual calendar until February 4th when you wonder why the heck you didn't get a calendar yet.

-This is my kitchen next week.

- “I don’t remember much from that horrible day, but I will never forget the trust you placed in me to be your voice. Thank you for your prayers and for giving me time to recover. I have more work to do on my recovery, so to do what is best for Arizona I will step down this week.”

- "It amounts to a reversal of centuries of colonialism. This aboriginal community will be the landlords of numerous non-aboriginal businesses and households. It has become – among other things – a capitalist enterprise that will bring into being residential subdivisions with many types of housing, two large shopping malls, and an industrial park adjacent to the port of Vancouver – all this on less than half of the TFN’s 724 hectares."

-Yea, this was Handel's Messiah to my broke ass too.

-Loggers burned Amazon tribe girl alive to prove a point. I'm shaking & crying.

-What is racism on television in 2012?

-Finally I see a fantastic use of doilies. I'm going to do this to a t shirt as well. & maybe a wall. Okay, no, but wouldn't that be cool?

-If a pictures worth a thousand words, here's a sweet essay on philosophy.

In which I use words like "taxpayer" & "responsibility"

2012-01-18T09:04:00.000-08:00

I pay a lot of money to go to school.

Right now, all of the Americans who read this are laughing their heads off because my measly 6 grand hardly compares, but looking at other Canadian provinces, I pay a lot of money to go to school.

I find it very easy to get a lot of people to agree that tuition fees should be cut, in the same way that I also find it easy to gather support for more affordable fuel when I stand in the middle of a traffic jam, or espouse that bacon should be tax free when I stand pretty much anywhere except for certain houses of worship. I'm 21, I'm broke, all of my friends are broke, and we're pretty angry about it. Anger is well designed posters and pithy, witty remarks. Anger is convenient & fun. Anger is yelling now & forgetting when we vote for lower taxes when we grow up.

That being said, we are students. If education is really as important & mind opening as we keep claiming it is, where the hell are our critical thinking skills? At this age, we should understand that no money is going to magically start duplicating. I could resort to a trite "not growing on trees" example that my folks, and I'm sure many others' parents like to pull out sometimes, but at this point I think you get the picture. But what I don't think many people get is the "big picture."

The big picture is the money that the government takes out to cover our tuitions now is money the province pays interest on later. It's not as if there's a crap load of money sitting around in Nova Scotian coffers that they're hiding. It has taken me a long time to figure that out. With so many students coming in from out of province to do their schooling and then rushing out upon graduation day, even their heightened tuition doesn't cover their cost to the taxpayers of Nova Scotia. I keep telling myself they I won't move to Alberta, but the fear of folding shirts at the Gap once again while waiting for people to retire from jobs that I would be excellent at is ever looming. We may have higher taxes here, but it's because so few people pay them. As much as a tuition increase of roughly $150 is annoying, asking whoever stays here to cover it on their underpaying jobs is criminal. Although this is a province specific woe, I think the overall message I have is important to carry anywhere in the world.

It is not enough to only get involved in things that only directly affect you.

I'm not saying students should not fight for lower tuition, but an annual march isn't a fight. I am not critiquing those who are truly involved in this program year round, but all of the Facebook events in the world won't actually accomplish anything. We need to take this education we say is so important to us & actually put it to use. We should be outraged when our government wastes money, because this could have gone to us. Shrieking at the premier non stop is just attacking the lowest common denominator; we live in a country that has a prime minister, and he is even more responsible. Why aren't we mad at our own schools for undeserving tenured professors and useless councils? We also need to accept that we can keep having so many universities in such a tiny province, but it's going to come at a cost. I could slip into another parental cliché about having cake and eating it to, but as we're all surviving on Kraft Dinner, this seems kind of cruel. I'd kill for a cupcake right now.

The thing is, all of those ideas at the top were easily accessible in any major newspaper. That's not even creative thinking, just critical assessment that many well paid committees have already done. What if students could sign up to work in smaller towns for a year or two in exchange for debt forgiveness? What if it was easier to transfer credits between universities and community colleges? What if better jobs existed to make your growing debt easier to pay off? In school, are we just working for a job, or are we actually developing ideas to change the world?

I love Nova Scotia. I love the way the snow melts in the spring, and how you can walk cross Halifax's peninsula in just an hour or two. I love escaping to long drives in Mabou where everyone's house is a cheery colour, and I love feeling like I'm standing at the end of the world whenever I'm near the ocean. I love the way everyone gets upset about preserving our heritage, even when it's illogical and frustrating. I love how paving roads can turn into a scandal when the press is bored. I love how everyone tells Newfie jokes, and if we're any better. I don't really want to leave. Toronto doesn't call to me the way it does to others with big hopes, big dreams. My aspirations include changing the world and making awesome biscuits, and I think I can do them both here, but it's going to take some work.

Of course you should fight your fight. Education needs to be accessible, and we have to stand up for that, but we also have to stand up for Nova Scotia as a whole. Education needs to be accessible as much as jobs need to be available and healthcare needs to be affordable, and that involves being politically engaged instead of perking up and making a snarky comment when it affects under 200$ of your money next year. If the people in charge only present two options, we need to think of thirteen more. We need to sit down and talk with the government instead of just yelling outside their buildings. Although we may spend our weekends downing Keith's & getting dirty looks, we are slowly but surely turning into real responsible citizens of where we live. Among our generation are the people who will be leading us some day, who will be making the hard, practical decisions. Let's get some practice doing that now.

Embracing Monday

2012-01-16T06:13:00.000-08:00

It's hard when something is taken away. On Saturday, I was thrilled to see a friend who lives elsewhere only to find out that the circumstances of her visit were less than pleasant. Despite this, she was able to put on a brave face & grin through the day as my boss & I donned retro polyester ball gowns & puffer jackets that greatly resembled shiny sausages. Eventually, after we ran out of foolish things to model, she & I sat beneath the racks of old dresses & hid from the world for just a minute. Even though it didn't change a thing, somehow it made everything feel okay.

Now we are apart; I won't be able to hide under those racks for another week, so I'm searching for things to make her smile. Hopefully at least one of these will do the trick. Because cats and Jesus fighting a cactus and getting angry about policy are almost as good as a real, physical being hugging you, right? Not even close, but they're probably the next best thing...

***

-Martha Stewart makes everything perfect all the time always! & now you can attempt that too.

-Pretty cities!

-Not enough criminals? Close some prisons. Good job, Denmark!

-That "Do you own your stuff or does your stuff own you?" line? Here's the not as trite version.

- Wow, mind.

-Who are the best possible people the critically discuss pressing issues about birth control & ovaries? According to Israel, those who don't have them.

-Do you use a nom de plume? Lesley Myrick discusses the last name.

-Apologies for racism only work if you then stop being racist.

-All of those questions you hate/love asking asked by Keanu instead.

-"But for some reason, there’s a certain discomfort in seeing SO much of Andrej styled ONLY in women’s clothing, or predominantly, having designers who cater to female fashion, epitomize this fellow as THE next great beauty."

-Someone very lovely that I have a lot of respect for wrote a fantastic piece about how Halifax changes, but seems to stay the same, & not in the right way sometimes...

-Boomerang pizza, severing male genitalia. No, I'm serious guys. It's supposed to sell pizza somehow.

-Lena always has the most amazing eye for detail, so I'm very pleased that she's relaunched A Crimson Kiss!

- I like all sandwiches. Seriously. ALL sandwiches. But yea, this is pretty funny (& filled with swearing.)

-My useful / beautiful resolution was also made by someone much more meticulous than I!

-"Nowhere in the Bible does Jesus have a sword fight."

-Being creative can't be broken down into a how to, but this is a pretty creative how to... It must even out.

-“She has eighty names, thirty addresses, twelve Social Security cards and is collecting veteran’s benefits on four non-existing deceased husbands. And she is collecting Social Security on her cards. She’s got Medicaid, getting food stamps, and she is collecting welfare under each of her names. Her tax-free cash income is over $150,000.” Oh, & she's black. Oh, & she's not real.

-& finally, if you're having a busy Monday morning, take a deep breath, click your mouse, & pretend you're right here. Wow, right?

Wow.

Mean Girls Still Exist

2012-01-13T07:26:00.000-08:00

Women have taken great progress in defeating the snarky Mean Girls stereotype that everyone wants to pin on us, but that isn't always the case. Katie & I frequently talk about what the Internet tells you versus real life and find some pretty big discrepancies. So what do you do when you're faced with a classic girl bully moment, in all it's bleach blond bubble gum smacking straight from a trashy TV show glory? Katie doesn't quite have the answer yet, but she has learned how to live with strength & grace, which I think is important to share.

***

We’ve all had those people that have decided that for one reason or another, they don’t like us. And usually, those people are anything but quiet about it. It can be hardest when it’s other girls. You read about feminism & solidarity on the internet, but real life never seems to match up. We’ve all had to deal with someone's horrible comments, and how they make us feel lousy about ourselves despite our best efforts to not let them get to us. Sometimes they’re loud and honest about their dislike, but sometimes they manipulate and pretend to be our friends. The one thing that they all have in common is the fact that they want to make us feel as bad about ourselves as possible.

Being a music major is not the same as many other majors. You see the same people all day, every day. You know everything about those people. You basically live with them. Hell, you’re basically married to them. You see each other in the best of times, in the worst of them (I hope you get that reference!). You may not like those people, but you have to work with them; their quirks, their insecurities, their bad days, & their good days. All of them are yours for the taking.

I have to take Vocal Performance Workshop, which is basically where everyone critiques me every time I sing. Needless to say, it promotes some not so nice comments at times. Disclaimer: I am a firm believer in constructive criticism. However, when two people told me that my voice hurt their ears, they surpassed constructive criticism and went straight to personal attacks.

So what did I do? Absolutely nothing. I tried talking about it with the one of them, but that didn’t work out. So I just remain silent. It’s probably not the best method, but I’m trying to avoid drama... Sigh.

The best advice that I can give is to just ignore it. It’s not easy, and I’ve actually started to talk to someone about my anxiety with performing and how to deal with it all. I have to say, with comments like those, it’s no wonder why I have trouble getting up and performing in front of people. It’s tear inducing. Sometimes I want to drop out. Then I remember that I don’t want to give people the satisfaction. Sometimes, to be great, is to be alone. Not that I think I’m great yet, but you get my point.

I’ve only made real connections with two other female singers. Another girl who I thought was a friend told me I need psychiatric help and that my vocal technique sucked. We’re okay now, but I’m not quite sure what else there is to say other than hello and chat about our favorite singers and what operas we like, etc. etc.

I’m hoping that eventually, they’ll get the hint that I don’t care about their input. Yes, there’s more than one girl bully. No, I have no clue as to why they’ve decided that I must go. But if I leave, it’ll be on my own terms. It’ll be because I no longer have the same passion for music that I once had, not because some bitch decided to say something personal in front of everyone else and nobody said anything. Why? Because THAT person looks bad in the end. People may not say anything, but we’re all thinking the same thing.

I consider myself so incredibly lucky that I have a mom that listens to me complain and that I have friends who will tell me what I need to hear. I’m friends with a master’s student who is the adult in the group who gives me a world view on singers and tells me what I should do about situations that are way beyond my maturity level. I have a best friend in the making who gabs with me on everything from makeup to boys to Mozart and Dvorak to what’s pissing us off at the time. I’ve only bonded with a couple girls in the vocal department. I get Starbucks or Boba Coffee with friends at least once a week where we all are our nerdy selves. I have jam sessions with my unbelievably hip friends and we run up to people singing Adele in public. I call my mom on an almost daily basis and she keeps me from moving back home by reminding me of how hard I’ve worked. All of this helps. It’s incredibly important to distance yourself from the negative energy. Self discovery and practicing are much more important than winning a popularity contest. Jealousy happens and people will respond with their nasty comments. It’s just how it is.

Sometimes I cry. Sometimes I think they’re right. But I will not give up. And nor will you. Because you will succeed, and when you do, the naysayers will be jealousy. And it's always way too fun to piss people off.

Do you have a story you'd like to share? I am opening this blog up for more contributions, and would love to hear from you at alwaysalwayssomething at gmail dot com.

Wikipedia Search: Theodor Adorno

2012-01-11T06:51:00.000-08:00

Once, over coffee, one of my friends was talking about how she always straightened her hair before a job interview or important career related event because in her mind, straight hair was serious, professional hair and curly hair was casual and feminine.

Let us discuss two points:

1) I don’t really drink much coffee (Or anything that ends with “AH-tay” as in “latte” or “chino” as in
"ThisDrinkNameIsWayTooLongAChino”), but I am frequently compelled to say “Once, over coffee” because I was in a store that sells coffee and you thus understand the atmosphere and the casual intimacy and all the bad brown 'urban' furniture that this phrase creates. This is where we are in society: they have marketed coffee or any warm caffeinated product so it is equated with friendship. A hot drink made out of beans usually picked by exploited workers creates a North American intimate moment. Sometimes it is to talk about the exploited workers, but usually not. Can you imagine if orange juice was marketed the same way? There's just as much hardship & underpaying going on. I'd love to see an ad with two women in lipstick sitting at a cafe gabbing excitedly about sex and other trendy things while drinking juice? Oh wait, that has happened with pomegranates & a-sigh-what? berries. But still. Ridiculous. Anyways, neither of us drank coffee, but now you understand what I'm trying to communicate. This is another post for another time.

2) I nodded my head and agreed with this statement at the time. And this is the point that is going to be what I am writing about today.

The statement didn't strike me until the next morning, as I was picking up my flat iron to make my bangs go from ‘just got up 80s prom queen fluffy’ to what I like to think of as ‘vaguely reminiscent of the blunt cuts those cool girls from the 60s had even though I am not one of them and this is 2012.' Cool girls in the sixties ironed their bangs straight. Or just had straight hair. So what did women do before real flat irons? How did a woman from the 1950s get ‘serious hair’? Of course, there are countless mental images of black and white women in printed dresses gabbing with their hair in rollers, but by the time this occurred to me, a larger point had been made. Women from the 1950s were largely unemployed outside the household and thus had no need for their hair to be ‘serious’, but when they did march through the streets and cry for equal rights, flat irons were not included in the demands. Actually, maybe they were, because when we did get our equal rights, we got financial power, and what followed that were all the flat irons and curling irons and other plug in change this poke that devices that put us in the mess of 'choice' we're in today.

At the end of the day, I certainly hope it is your excellent resume and delightful social graces that help you obtain your dream job. I will admit that image does have a certain role to play in being hired or else the suit industry would plummet along with the number of married couples and Mad Men's ratings. However, we all know that really, really, really, even at a job as image conscience as Hooter’s (Please tell me this is not your dream job? You can lie to me, it's okay, just please...), curly hair versus straight hair will not be what determines whether you get hired.

If you look around you might think that we are being given more choice than ever before. If you look twice, you might notice how ‘affordable’ most of it is; every girl with a minimum wage position at a burger joint can buy a 40$ piece of plug in plastic to make her prettier(?) We have such a large deal of control over how we look that we forget that we have a ‘choice.’ Every day you chose whether to alter yourself or not, and how to alter yourself, and although they might not always work, there is a tool for altering almost anything you could ever want about your appearance. There are a lot of choices to be made, and as humans we assume that with choice comes a bad choice; if we didn’t, we would never stand in line fumbling with your pockets indecisively at an inauthentic Chinese restaurant wondering whether we want chicken chow mien or chow mien chicken. If you are still reading at this point, you now understand that this means that we can make bad choices about the way we look. I have a problem with this.

Choice means you have the power to do something. A variety of products, not even brands of a product, but merely products, give you a lot of choices to make. As we make the choice of what to buy ourselves, we love to tote this as power. Although you may not think about it every time you smear a new colour on your eyelid, the ‘power’ to make ‘choices’ is huge; it’s a singing-angels-coming-down-from-the-heavens moment in every teenage girl’s life. If you do not believe that choice is so closely related to power, I beg you to consider why Oprah has a new makeover issue every few months. We LOVE makeovers. Makeovers pluck you from obscurity and make you hot (!!! That’s a big deal guys!) just by making some choices. Just by making some choices we could all get makeovers too! It’s so easy! You just have to choose to buy several pieces of clothing in an obscurely named colour, choose to make an appointment to lighten/darken/have someone do something with your hair, and choose from a list of fun new goops and paints and smears to go out and buy. And there is one for you, because there are so goddamn many of them. DO YOU HEAR ME? THERE IS PAINT. JUST FOR YOUR FACE. JUST FOR YOU.
YOU'RE WELCOME!!
You can choose tinted moisture balm colour something for dry skin or tinted moisture balm colour something for oily skin. But you sure as hell better choose tinted moisture balm colour something or you're a disgusting piece of worthless, YOU HEAR ME YOUNG WOMEN?!

This isn't our choice. I can't imagine showing up at work without mascara, and it's definitely nothing to do with nabbing a man or whatever the term Cosmo uses to tell us that we're worthless when we're not making babies (without actually making babies of course! You go girl! Wooo!) We are deciding between one type of hair an another. A naked face is a political statement. I can't even imagine how hard it must be for black women, who are constantly being told that their afros are scary. I mean, I think my 80's prom queen bangs are scary, but at least that's not by the KKK of the business world.

This choice is an illusion. Yes, yes, an illusion, those things they're always warning you about in those classes you hate where you can't just memorize the text.

A long time ago some jerk got women to march on the street to stand up for their right to smoke cigarettes in public. It's an equality thing you see. Why should men have all the cancer? Does this sound ridiculous to you? Well, now instead your face is wearing the cigarettes. Your hair reeks of ashes. The Coke Zero you're knocking back to lose the bone structure that is your hips is probably going to give you cancer too.

Let's go 1984 here and state that power is freedom. Advertiser's freedom is red lipstick or pink. Their freedom is zit free skin that only comes from using four different face washes in a very specific way; or maybe it's buying the same face washes with the term 'organic' slapped on them after enough people complain that what we put on our biggest organ is MESSED UP. And finally, we're being told that freedom is 2 cents less tax so you can buy more nail polish instead of social programs. Yea, that's right. It's not enough that they're shaping your hair, your cuticle, and your self esteem, they're also shaping you politically.

We are constantly being sold the lie of freedom. And whether you want to do something about it is your choice, but please young women (you're still the average age of readers of this blog, 15 year olds!), please just listen.

Right now, I'm wearing mascara and eyeliner. I straightened my bangs this morning, although they're not very 1960s cool girl. Just thinking of tinted balm colour something is making me stress about how dull my skin looks in the winter and how maybe I need a new moisturizer? I'm not telling you this because you care about my make up regime; I'm just promising you that I don't think you're a bad person for wanting to change the way you look because darlings, I'm so there. I'm not telling you to put down the lip balm, but I'd like you to think about it when you pick it up.

Note: This is a very old post I never actually wrote until recently, and I have to give major credit to Anna & Isabel, two of the most fantastic women I know for inspiring me to get angry once again.

Embracing Monday

2012-01-09T09:12:00.001-08:00

"What about your brain?"

Maureen's question threw me for a bit of a loop. As the owner of a strange but exceptionally curated consignment store, she would definitely know a thing or two about the "only beautiful or useful things" resolution that I had just proudly confessed would be my main focus for 2012.

What about my brain? What does my brain 'own'? What's useful or beautiful to my head? My resolutions are not finished, apparently. Once again, a seemingly simple statement that I stupidly expected a certain amount of verbal back patting for has turned into a huge knowledge quest, like something from a 1990s computer game. At this point, my ideas are a bit too pretentious, which is neither useful nor beautiful, to actually merit some sort of explanation. Still, hopefully everything you see below helps you better start your day, or makes you smirk into your coffee, or just distracts you a bit on the bus, which is useful & beautiful to me.

***

-Isabel is a really big deal & she completely deserves it, especially for this piece.

-Art in real life, thanks to Maud.

-Two different Globe articles with some very good, very different points.

-Magazines are generally pretty slim this time of year, so thank goodness Matchbook was SO AMAZING this month! Why aren't I in India right now? Or at least sleeping on Indian sheets...

-Urban clutter in an easy map. I wish I could get one for Halifax!

-I would love to put these up, but then I'd have to take them down every time my parents came over...

-COOKIE TIME. Yeesh!

-This is what social media has come to.

-Because it's Monday, here's something about Friday to make you cringe. & smile!

100 Things I Have Learned in the Past Year

2012-01-04T19:10:00.000-08:00

A hundred has always been a magical number to me.

I've learned a lot in the year since I started this blog. Much more than the hundred little widgets I'm going to share with you. A hundred was a fantastic goal you could never quite count to, an awful lot of dollars, an unattainable age. Although it's lost a bit of mystique since it's easy to recite numbers & 100 dollars wouldn't even come close to covering my rent for a month, it still has a certain hold on me. One hundred seems more infinite than infinity sometimes. One hundred is momentous.

I've blogged for much longer, but I like to celebrate. Sometimes I miss my old blog, Hail Mary, but I am relieved to have started something new. In the past year, I have been privileged to read some fantastic ideas, been giving compliments I don't deserve, and have put my foot in my mouth. E-mails have poured in and emotions have been stirred. I've yelled via typing and had you yell back. I can't way to continue to clack away at my keyboard & hope you will continue to join me for all of the excitement that is coming up.

In true Hail Mary spirit, I am sharing 100 pieces the most succinct but valuable advice I know at the wise old age of twenty one. At the very least, I'm wise enough to know to never give up on magic numbers.

Living Well

-Eat more vegetables, starting with red peppers, because they kind of taste like fruit. And vegetables are amazing.

-Eat lunch outside whenever you can. No one, no one, no one gets outside enough, & staying in and reading at your desk may seem satisfying, but you will be gritting your teeth and feeling hopeless by 4 pm.

-"Too spicy" is something that can be controlled. A certain level of pain can actually fight dementia (nerve stimulation) & help you feel more energetic. Scriracha sauce still makes me weak though. I'm working on it!

-Slowcookers are the best thing to ask for for the holidays. They may make you feel old, but oh my gosh, your stomach will thank you.

-Pack your own lunches.

-Move into neighbourhoods with lots of trees; this means some consideration has been given to planning.

-Create.

-Do something fantastic or do nothing. Not perfect, just fantastic. Perfect is a myth & should be treated as a story instead of an ideal.

-Learn a second language. (Live a second language.)

-Give up fast food for a year. It seems like a lot to give it up forever, but say a year, or even just a month, and I swear you'll never want it again. I ate a burger for the first time since last December yesterday, and I vomited. Luke's hands started shaking uncontrollably. What passes as food nowadays is embarrassing.

-You don't have to go to the gym. Walking counts. Dancing counts.

-Resist the sprawl.

-Location doesn't matter, but how you feel about your location does.

-Dinner & a movie isn't boring as long as it's a savoury dinner and a stimulating movie. The triteness associated is a war on mediocrity, not a problem with food and film, which are two of the best things about life.

-A carpet > carpeting.

-Spend more real time with good friends.

-Everyone needs a support group. Build yours with intention.

-Never stop looking at pretty things.

-Make one of these.

-Plan everything you possibly can the day before. No, you'll never get anything, but if you have your lunch, your outfit, and your books ready in the morning it can make your erratic hair or impatient stomach or snooze alarm addicition a little bit more manageable.

-Plan to visit Iceland, India, the Eastern part of Russia, & Cape Breton. (I only actually visited one thing year... guess which one.)

Living Beautifully

-Pomegranate green tea WILL clear up your skin & stain your lips a lovely crimson colour. Double the pretty!

-Those very wide flat hairbrushes that I always thought were a waste of money? Yea, those actually work.

-Find a hairstylist you can trust & actually trust them.

-Useful & beautiful is all you need.

-Grey is only boring if you are. There's something to be said for colours that are like canvases.

-Make things yourself. It might not turn out, but your hands need to do something other than poke at things and type.

-Everything ever can be found second hand. Nothing in my living room (other than electronics & select antiques passed down through the family) cost me more than 80$.

-Never underestimate social capital. Being able to pick out the right bottle of wine is better than a big television.

-Long sleeved dresses look good on everyone, both because they are timeless and because they actually look good on womens' bodies.

-Things you can do with olive oil: Shave your legs, brush your teeth, wash your hair, and obviously, cook.

-Make sure you fill up all of the delicate and intricately patterned notebooks you buy, whether with phone numbers or hopes & dreams or letters to no one.

-Your collection of quotes isn't pointless.

-You always need a picture frame for SOMETHING. Never feel guilty about buying another.

-Expensive lipstick & mascara isn't worth it, but anything you put directly on your skin is.

-It's prettier when you're not 'pretty' all the time.

-Being a good host is better than any gift you could possibly give.

-Shelling out an extra few dollars every now and then to pay for a friend's coffee for no reason is worth so much more than a few dollars to them.

-Everyone is more lonely than they like to admit; throw more dinner parties.

-Everything made with Marimekko is made with magic. (& I have no problem saying it.)

-Good art is invaluable. Never regret spending money on something that could someday make your house a home.

-Always carry an extra Thank You card. There are so many people to thank.

-Make a check list for your abstract goals. It's the only way to actually know what you want, and Xing things off is so fun.

-Learn how to french braid. It makes inevitable ponytails much more interesting.

-Decorate everything.

-Take a million pictures, but only keep the very best and the most meaningful.

-There's nothing wrong with wearing the exact same pearl earrings every day. (I hope.)

Living Meaningfully

-Take care of yourself the way you'd like to take care of others. You can't march in the streets to fight famines if you're hungry.

-Social justice isn't coffee, it's everyone living with dignity. Stop confusing the two.

-Being critical of institutions & beliefs that you love and hold dear is actually a very good thing, even if other people get frustrated when you question things.

-Just because it's 'right' doesn't make it 'correct.' Help fix it.

-A lockout is not a strike. In fact, it's the exact opposite.

-Write about things that actually mean something to your future. As lovely as a font can be & as flattering as an eye shadow can look, the world is much more interesting. Your voice is more passionate than you know.

-Being an activist for public transit is being an activist for low income people AND the environment AND community.

-Buy things from everyone's bake sales. Every organization has been there once.

-You can be critical & be revolutionary without being rude.

-Shelters always need more mittens, deodorant, and underwear.

-At least follow different, smart people on Twitter. That's why they're there. I like the Epathy Factory, Raffi, and Rhonda Ragsdale.

-Join political newsletters in your area. Even if you only read them half of the time, there is always an event or workshop I wish I could make.

-Men can be feminists too.

-Hold on to newspaper clippings. They're so cool, and they won't be around someday.

-PR people and marketing people are trying to control what you see. That's okay. That's life. I'm in PR. Just understand that.

-Are you using your reusable water bottle, your reusable bag, your reusable coffee mug, and your reusable lunch box? Okay, good, I shouldn't have to tell you that.

-Vote.

-Pay attention before you vote.

-Tell other people to vote.

I Like

-The Last Days of Disco

-Wag the Dog

-TinTin

-Charade

-Bodoni, St. Marie, Palatino

-La Batarde by Violette Leduc.

-The Crying of Lot 49 by Thomas Pynchon.

-The Unbearable Lightness of Being by Milan Kundera

-A Series of Unfortunate Events by Lemony Snickett

-Solaris by Stanislaw Lem

-A Million Dollars by Joel Plaskett

-Fire by Bruce Springsteen

-You Would Never Survive the Winters in this Province by Maybe Smith

-Sprawl II by Arcade Fire

-Right Back to Where we Started From by Maxine Nightingale

Remember...

-Organized people are usually partly pretending. Stay strong. Perfection is not attainable, even in very basic terms.

-Everyone can tell when you're not REALLY enthusiastic about something.

-If you think you're getting away with everything, chances are you're not. People are noticing & don't want to be confrontational. Someone will call you out on it eventually.

-Stop blaming everyone else for what you can't control. Even if it's your fault, that doesn't mean it's automatically someone else's.

-Although it's very vogue to mock sports fans, can you think of something that you've been passionate about since you were very, very young? Respect the devotion. They're not idiotic jocks like you want to believe.

-You will never be entirely independent, & that's okay. This is why we live in a society, this is why we are social creatures, this is why you are reading this blog.

-You are a person, not a percent, and make your decisions as such.

-Always, always, always keep your receipts for pretty much everything. Although I dispose of little slips for drinks or groceries or other things, I still have the papers for my first laptop. Just in case. Just because.

-Consider absolutely everything before buying absolutely anything.

-Love as much as you can. Forever.

Thank you, everyone.

Twitter / E-mail

Embracing Monday

2012-01-02T06:52:00.000-08:00

I never know what to do about the end of the year, & the begining of the next one, so frequently I just ignore it. Part of the pressure of the best of lists is selecting what you actually think was your greatest work. Part of the problem for me is this means that some of my pieces were less good, which I'd rather just delete. It's cliche and corny, but I hate putting anything out there, whether it's an essay or even a scribble, if it's not the very best essay or scribble I could do. Of course, this means I do less. It can be a virtue, but also a productivity trap. In the new year, I hope to draw foolishly more frequently, paint my apartment bright colours, travel across the country and do my very best at everything... but only sometimes.

PS: I have some ridiculously exciting projects on the way, so keep your eyes peeled over the next 2 or so weeks!

***

-This actually helped me write the very post you’re reading RIGHT NOW, so you know it’s good!

-One of the only year end lists I truly look forwards to, mainly because all of the noses are always so funny.

-The most popular post of the year on apartment therapy is my absolutely favourite thing ever. Buuuut since that's a bit problematic with my landlord, here's 30 projects for a 3 day weekend that trick me into thinking I can actually make one that looks just like what they did.

-I would be very, very happy if I were able to get any one of these gorgeous black & white dresses on my body. & some red lipstick pllleeease. However, I have already ruined one dress with an alcoholic cranberry drink on New Years, so maybe I'll go for more black based ones next time... Typical me.

-Always Something contributor Rebecca knows exactly what heaven looks like to me.

-In it's own little small city way, I would say Halifax nightlife attitude is almost exactly half Paris & half New York, according to Garance Dore.

-Some posts are just perfect, and though a little old, this is one of them.

-For when you could use a friend.

-Yes, Nova Scotia, yes yes yes!

-Although I wouldn't necessarily say that I became more radical in 2011, failure on behalf of governments, unions, and corporations (no pensions, no medication, no student loan...) has definitely cemented that the system is broken. I did not camp out in any parts, and the only thing I 'occupied' on October 17th was a seat at Campaign School for Women. BUT, I did listen to a lot of Bruce Springsteen and Tom Morello, so you know that change is gonna come.

-Have you submitted your photo yet? I want to see your smiling, progressive face!

Happy Holidays

2011-12-22T05:31:00.000-08:00

You've probably noticed that things have slowed down a bit here in the mad dash known as me trying to get my shopping done while finishing up little bits and bobs of projects on my work term. To everyone who has e-mailed & commented; I will get back to you very soon, I promise. :)

I hope you all have a wonderful, wonderful new year and I wish you all the love I possibly could. I have a great group of conversationalists here, don't I? Thank you for opening my mind, for considering what I have to say, for just being nice, and for just coming here to say hi every now and then. I hope your holidays are nothing short of fantastic, & I can't wait to hear from you again soon.

I will be headed to a beautiful (and sometimes hilarious) island in Nova Scotia called Cape Breton, for the nonlocals reading this, and will be back a bit before New Years.

You can certainly say hi @allisomething on twitter.

In the mean time, please enjoy a real ad that my grandfather took out in the paper many moons ago. I never met him, but I think we would have gotten along very well.

xxxoo!

Allison

What It's Like to Be... A Woman Who's had an Abortion

2011-12-19T19:59:00.000-08:00

When I was about 17 years old, full of vim & vigour & determination to one day be a "real grown up activist", I had the pleasure of interviewing a charming woman named Georgia who reinforced that free will was the only guide you needed. Although my opinion has since developed, Georgia's honest and careful answers have remained relevant and important. Originally posted on my previous blog, I am bringing the unedited version (save for a typo or two) back to share, both in a yearbook sense where we marvel at how amateur I used to sound, and how important women like Georgia are to involve in the conversation about women's rights and lifestyles.

***

Sometimes in life, there are situations where there seems to be no good answer, just options that are better than others. The problem with these options is that they are seldom obvious, and usually require a lot of thought and painstaking decision making, while being accompanied by doubt the whole time. This can definitely sum up the experience Georgia, a strong and talented Australian girl with an enviable position in the much coveted fashion industry. This vegetarian of twelve years, currently engaged to the man of her dreams, and a talented photographer (as displayed in this post!) seems like one of the coolest girls you could know, and would be an excellent best friend. And she would be, even if a year ago Georgia had an abortion.

The thing about Georgia's abortion is people sometimes forget that Georgia is not her abortion. She is still the warm, funny, friendly girl she always was who made a decision that will be with her the rest of her life, but she made a hard but appropriate choice to have to carry the decision with her instead of the fetus. Sometimes a woman can be careful and smart, but still feel she is not responsible enough yet to raise a child. Sometimes this is the most responsible decision.

Georgia was lovely enough to explain it for me:

Q: What was your opinion on abortion before your pregnancy? Has abortion changed it?

A: I went to an all girls school, where women were applauded, and a broad and unbiased education was paramount. I am also university educated, so I am fortunate enough to have been surrounded by strong and positive female role models.

Abortion is not something I thought I would personally have to deal with, and was definitely not a decision I took lightly. I am still, and always will be, pro-choice. I believe it is a woman’s right to choose her future, regardless of mistakes she may have made in her past.

Q: What was your first reaction when you found out you were pregnant? Did the idea of abortion come to you immediately or did you think of it later?

A: My first reaction to the news was devastation.

I had taken two at home tests. The first was negative, but the second positive. It was then I went to a doctor to find out for sure. As soon as she confirmed the news, I broke down.

The doctor was very clinical, told me I had 3 options, (keep the baby, adoption, and abortion) and at this stage the best thing for me to do was start a pros and cons list regarding each one. I did weigh up the pros and cons of every option though, and it definitely helped me to make my decision. Having a baby at that time was never part of my plan, and I knew that I was not ready to bring a child into the world.

Q: How did you pick which clinic to attend? Was the clinic positive and helpful or did you feel judged for what you did? Were there lots of options?

A: I did some online research and basically pulled a few numbers. I phoned around and went with my gut feeling based on conversations I had with receptionists. I cannot say enough about the clinic I attended! They were supportive and helpful from first contact. I had made an initial appointment, and cancelled it the day before because I just didn't feel ready. They were completely understanding & beyond kind. When I attended a week later, I underwent a counselling session, completed psychology tests, and was assigned a personal nurse to help me understand the process, answer any of my questions, and quite literally hold my hand from the start to the end.

I met with the both the doctor and the anaesthesiologist before the procedure, and the whole environment was supportive and sensitive. They also ensured patients had a friend or partner to be there when the procedure was over; someone to take them home and support them when they left the clinic. I was completely informed about any risks involved, and supplied with contact numbers and references should I have any issues or concerns after leaving. I now have such a respect for those people who looked after me and all the women in the same situation. They were truly amazing.

Q: We frequently see people protesting outside the abortion clinics. Was this an issue with you at all?

A: On the morning I went to the clinic there were at least 15 people outside, holding placards, praying, chanting, and protesting. It was horrible to have to deal with that on top of everything else. I understand that this is a sensitive issue, and that people are passionate about it, but I do not believe harassing women in front of a clinic is the right or effective way to get a message across. This was a decision that I had thought long, hard, and agonized about. It was not something I was going to change my mind about upon being set upon by [others].

Q: How do you feel when other people say mean things about abortion? Has this situation ever arisen? Are you open with your experience or do you prefer to keep it to yourself?

A: I don’t advertise the fact that I had an abortion, but if the subject comes up, and I am with people I respect and trust, then I have no problem in talking about my experience. When people are judgmental and ignorant though, it really just makes me sad. How can you judge not having been in that situation? But hey, all I can do is try to educate and empathize.

Q: Did you have a strong support group while going through this? Was this important?

A: I have amazing friends, and they were very important to me during both the decision making process and afterward. They were willing to stand by me whatever choice I made, and that was really touching. I would have been lost without them, and I think it would be very tough to go through this experience alone.

Q: Are there any days you regret your abortion?

A: The regret I have is getting pregnant in the first place. I am happy in my life, and I know in my heart, that if I hadn't made that choice, I would have many regrets. There a so many things I want to achieve in my life, and having a child is one of them, but I want to be a responsible and amazing mother, able to provide the best for my child. Quite simply, I would never have been able to do that, if I'd had a child at that time.

I won’t say that it was easy. It took me a long time to deal with. I did go through some depression and a great sense of loss afterward. I cried a lot. I was upset at myself for not being ready to have the baby I had conceived. But 14 months later, I look forward to the day I am ready, and knowing that when it happens, I will be in the best position for parenthood that I can possibly be.

Q: Name some misconceptions about abortions and women who have them.

A: The thing I was most surprised about was that the waiting room was comprised mainly of couples. Ages ranged from 20s - 40s. It was my misconception that mainly young single girls have abortions, teenagers without decent support networks, or uneducated women living "hard" lives. This is most certainly not the case!

I have also heard ridiculous notions that women frequently use abortions as birth control measures, and I simply can't accept that anyone would put themselves through that instead of just taking a pill, or putting a condom on their partner.

Q: Were you religious? Are you religious? Did any of this have an impact on your decision?

A: I was baptised catholic, and spent 12 years in catholic schools, but I am not practising. I am a spiritual person though, and I do believe in a higher power. There are many aspects from many religions that I take on board, I do believe in re-incarnation, I believe in life cycles, and I believe in karma. But I think, spirituality is a fluid thing that should grow and develop within us as we do. As cliché as it sounds, I do think everything happens for a reason, and I think every experience helps us to learn and eventualize our full selves.

***

It is interesting to look far back into history and see what beliefs many of the early people had on abortion. In fact, almost every ancient religion, from Zoroastrianism to Hinduism, had a period between conception and the developement of the fetus into a true child. This has later been scientifically proven, but even in ancient times there was admittedly dangerous (mind you, so was child birth at the time) but will available options for women who were in danger from their husbands or if their health was in concern.

An interesting thing to look at is the practices of many Japanese Buddhists.

" I think abortion should be approved or disapproved according to each circumstance." -Dalai Lama, New York Times, 28/11/1993

Abortions there acknowledge both that the fetus is not yet a child but also deals with the spiritual side with an offering to the god Jizo of lost travellers and children. Small statues are placed and visited annually, with the understanding that Jizo will guide the soul of the child off to another reincarnation which is more appropriate for it. The respect involved in a culture that embraces such practices is admirable.

There are a lot of different choices for a lot of different people; I made the choice to write this, and you made the choice to read it. You may make the choice to always be against abortion, but others of you may make the choice to have an abortion some day, or to be there for someone who has made that choice. In the end, there are a million choices that we are all permitted to make, and I hope that Georgia's story has inspired you to realize that there are many different decisions that are appropriate for different people, and to act without compassion is inappropriate, no matter what side of the parking lot you're on.

If you have a story to share for What It's Like to Be..., feel free to e-mail me at alwaysalwayssomething at gmail dot com.

Headscarves are a piece of fabric.

2011-12-15T04:06:00.001-08:00

I hate that we allow people to disrespect women because it's part of their culture.

Jason Kenney has banned everyone from covering their faces during Canadian citizenship ceremonies. Finally.

Yes, I think a lot of really ridiculous, offensive statements have been made because of these actions. Yes, I think Lowe’s was wrong to pull sponsorship from a TLC show. Yes, I too am tired of vast misinformation about Islam. Yes yes yes, my head is still full of feminism and my heart is still where it belongs. I am not some ignorant hick fool like you want me to be. I am aware enough to know that I need to prove to you that I’m not racist by telling you Persepolis is one of my favourite books, and that I do a project on Sharbat Gula in grade 6. I’m aware enough to know that some of you, great people of the internet, are going to call me a racist anyways, despite this not really being about race. And you know what? It’s going to bother me, but that’s okay. Even though other people that are part of the culture and religion have reflected these thoughts. Even though I am mistaken for a Muslim woman when I wear my headscarf in the rain, and people insult me, and although this does not even begin to compare to some of the treacheries that my friends must endure every day, it still had the nerves in my arms jumping for hours. But this needs to be said. Am I not racist yet? Sigh. Oh well…

I cannot respect anyone who does not believe that women are people. Acknowledging someone as a person goes beyond a basic understanding of skin & bones; it means celebrating them. It means holding their opinions to the same level as your own, even if they are sometimes misinformed. It means encouraging them to have opportunities that you do. It means sometimes critically thinking about the culture you hold dear in order to ensure that every human is flourishing as much as possible. Excepting a woman to cover her entire body, including her face, is turning her into a ghost. Seeing someone’s face is a critical part of communication; by forcing or even encouraging women to wear a niqab, you are effectively telling her to communicate less effectively. You are turning her into a ghost. You are destroying her voice.

I am not against loose dresses. Modesty is a virtue, but it is one that should come from the self. If covering one’s hair helps that person feel a religious closeness that I have yet to experience, then I am supportive and jealous. Although I do not understand the hijab, I do not reject it. In my somewhat suburban university, many Muslim women stand beside me, outshine me, make hilarious jokes, and are incredibly poignant about their own culture.

“So you’re only modest in the rain?” one of my dear coursemates questioned me as I wrung out my piece of silk after a rainstorm. My mouth was agape for a moment before I realized she was joking. She stood up in front of my woman’s studies class during introductions and told us all how proud she was to be Canadian, how thrilled she was that her daughter was going to grow up here, and how angry she was at her ex husband just like the rest of us would be at ours. Her duvirce was about differences, not oppression. She wanted to go back, she said, back to where she lived when she was very young and be part of the revolution that is happening there. She touched her exquisite blue and gold veil as she said she would return, but she would bring her education with her. She tottered around in stilettos as we all discussed America’s Next Top Model and whether using social media was really activism. I miss N.

No, Islam is not the problem.

We have gut feelings. We all differ on what is wrong and right, but at the core we all know that we know something that we cannot explain. Many of the laws in the country are based on morals. This is a nightmare for many who fear strict bills based on ideological whims, but we are free to communicate about things. We can debate with each other. We can have our ideas represented. We speak evenly. I doubt many are actually concerned that a woman’s rights are being infringed when she has to show her face during her citizenship oath, just like a man would. Instead, we are afraid that this country of multiculturalism that we have built is going to crumble. We worry that we will become derogatory. We hate offending. We have seen that having different cultures in our land is excellent and beautiful, and we don’t want to destroy that.

We feel okay putting limits on the religious freedoms of religions that are more traditional in this country. We know those, we were those. The real issue is that so few Muslims are actually involved in our political system, and even fewer Muslim women. We know that we are excluding them from a conversation about their own beliefs, instead talking in hushed voices like we are parents discussing a sleeping child. We are having a conversation about them, not with them. No wonder we are quick to state that we have to understand people’s culture! We’ve only read the Wikipedia page!

The solution to our current multicultural awkwardness is to ensure that everyone has their voices heard. This is difficult when some are being oppressed by others that we do not understand, but Canada has overcome much bigger problems. Of all the things that we have dealth with, I am confident in our ability to have a conversation.

The way Jason Kenney banned the niqab was shoddy. There were no guidelines. There is not enough sensitivity. There is not enough communication. His excuses are somewhat laughable. I wish it had not been he who had stood up, but I am glad he had the courage to, even if it is misguided. We hate him, but many of us feel it in our gut. Our progressive mind tells us to be culturally sensitive, but what we won’t say loudly is that we know we’re right. Even though I doubt Mr. Kenney has actually read Rousseau, I applaud his forcing people to be free.

I don’t think it is possible to treat everyone the same, but I do believe that in Canada there are not different kinds of people. There is no sliding scale of equality. In Canada, there are only Canadians, and as Canadians, it is our duty to make sure that everyone feels like one.

Embracing Tuesday

2011-12-13T04:01:00.001-08:00

Holiday cards to be sent, seasonal fruit to be eaten, and working 6 days a week, but one of them at a fantastic vintage store.

Please excuse me for being late? Please?

***

-Not surprisingly, talking about prostitution means talking about gender roles. But there’s something different thing time!

-I like that there’s a Wikipedia article called Films Considered the Worst Ever. How is this decided? Where’s Spice World?

-A clever little piece on the dangers of encouraging your children to read. Alternately titled: Allison, an unauthorized biography.

-“I hope Chris Paul sues. I hope the Rockets sue. I hope the Lakers sue. I hope Dell Demps resigns and makes a sex tape with a stripper wearing a David Stern Halloween mask.” Even if you’re not a basketball fan, Bill Simmons’ undeniable passion is hilarious.

- Although I have just purchased a 35 x 56 inverted, upside down map of the world (yea, you read that correctly) for my living room, I really could have used these creative ideas a month ago! Oh well, there are plenty of other rooms!

-My hair is far too layered for the Gibson tuck to look good right now, but it would be so charming on you!

-I would like to be Paloma's roommate.

-Never go into a store and say “I’m looking for that pattern like” and then make squiggly patterns with your finger ever again! amy atlas pattern board

-English class, 3 years ago.

-Although I really love writing, I still take a lot of pictures of what I’m doing and what dress I just foolishly spent all my money on and how awkward I am at braiding hair and what I’m reading and just that sort of thing. You can find them all here!

10 Ways to get Youth Involved in Politics

2011-12-09T05:59:00.000-08:00

Adults were talking about my last post.

Standing on that awkward, squiggly line between grown up and youth, I had forgotten that people older than me might also use the internet and might also click on things that are hyperlinked and thus might actually read a little bit of what I had to say. As someone who has been blogging since I was seventeen, I have consistently “spoken” to girls roughly my own age. I always assumed that was who cared about my opinions. Suddenly, it is occurring to me that may not be the case.

Adults e-mailed me to ask if youth really felt that way about politics. Adults blamed youth for not caring about what adults had to say. Adults liked my words or adults thought I just didn’t understand. Adults always jump on Luke & I at political events to pry into why we are there and to mock others our age for not showing up. Voter apathy is everyone’s favourite blame game, and it’s easiest to pinpoint the young because they’re not paying attention anyways, right? Adults ask me if I’m going to run for office just because I read the paper. Some adults think I am a radical. Some adults think I am far too conservative. Overall, adults read and made comments about my big middle finger to the brand of “social justice” that was being fed to us by most political parties. The feedback I got was interesting, bamboozling, and eventually exciting, so for the very first time, adults, I am going to write something for you. For us. Because I think there are some things that you need to understand…

10 ways to get youth involved in politics, or at least not make us very angry and hate you

-Stop thinking we’re all the same. I know, I know you have studied your demographics and your “demographics” say youth are UNIQUE! But I’m not talking about this branded Hollywood uniqueness that has made Kanye West and Zooey Deschanel. I mean unique in the true sense of the word. I mean unique as in we are literally all separate people and not just a bunch of pink dots making up an infograph. I know this sounds horrifically basic, but you probably haven’t had a bunch of adults rush up to you and simultaneously ask why you don’t vote (I do) and why you camp in public places (I didn’t) and every other buzz word of the moment. I appreciate if you want to hear my opinion; I appreciate it a LOT. But you have to actually be willing to listen to it instead of hoping that I will be your quote machine that will meet your stereotypical daydream of what someone roughly under thirty thinks like. Imagine if I asked you what you thought of Dilbert and taking your kids to soccer and what it’s like to wear a toupe. Yea, it’s just like that.

-Actually try to talk about things that matter to us. I know I just told you we’re not all the same but no, this is not a trick question. I really need you to think about this one. If we hear people get up in arms with their opponents about chainsaw legislation, banana prices, and things with impossibly big words, we do not suddenly become passionate about whatever you’re spewing out. Actually, quite the opposite; we will assume you are being delivered huge pay cheques to do absolutely nothing and we will not vote because who actually cares anyways. If you’re not doing something for the good of the city, province, country, world… then why are you doing it? Politics isn’t boring. Maybe you’re just a boring politician.

-Interact with us. You’re on literally every web platform known to mankind and you can’t find a way to respond to our questions? Come on. You can point us to resources. You can respond with a pat answer (even though it sucks.) You can direct it to your team. Just reply for chrissakes. You don’t win just by existing, and if you do, then let me know so I can write to my MP and get your position cut.

-Stop with your token poster child youth. I know you have one. As a highly political and sometimes somewhat humorous person, I may be one for some politicians. Having youth who are involved in your party is excellent! That’s the point! But expecting one dancing hack to persuade us to like you just because they’re kind or maybe in the same age group as us? When I’m trying to talk to you, I don’t bring out a Santa Claus puppet to get my message across. Unless it would help…

-Understand that we don’t have the same experiences as you, and that’s really okay. No, I don’t remember Trudeau thanks. Wasn’t born yet. And no, the great Generically Named Lockout Strike Whatever of sometime in the 80s will not inspire passionate rage in my being. I don’t really care what people before you have done; I want to know what you will do. That’s why I’m talking to you, eh?

-But at the same time, don’t talk down to us. It should be pretty common knowledge that you don’t want to insult the people you’re trying to garner the support of, but if one person tries to explain the basic premise of proportional representation to me one more time…

-Using slang doesn’t make you cool. I know hearing Jack Layton say “#fail” on television was funny as hell, but starting newsletters with how r u? C’mon man; you remind me of when department stores are trying to be hip with their Back 2 skool ads. Which isn’t hip, in case you needed help there.

-Have events in places where we actually go. That boat club is nice and all, and maybe all you want to support you are people who own boats, but you can’t say you’re trying to reach out if you only go to places like that. I own a car; it’s this limo I call the bus. Do you actually expect me to have a BOAT? Or eat lunches at places called The Insert FrenchItalianLanguage Word Here? If I have to debate whether I need to get out of my flats and wear heels to get into your talk, then chances are I’m not going. And just so you know, for the more average student, you should replace “flats” with “sweatpants” in that sentence.

-Ask us questions. Yea, I get it, we’re there to see you talk, but it’s not like you actually know what we’re going through. Chances are, we have more debt, more information, and more anger than you ever did growing up. Although we seem apathetic, most of us have this thing called the Internet that makes it really easy to hate everyone. You could at least try to care about what we have to say. Bonus points if you actually do.

-Finally, and most importantly, admit that you don’t know everything. You can study up on every issue you want and we’ll still find a way to trick you with an awkward question. We like that. We like seeing if you’ll tell it to us straight, or if you’ll try to bury it under a bunch of BS. The answer isn’t what we’re looking for, it’s how you answer. I once asked Maxime Bernier if there was a single social or public program that he supported, and from what I gather, the answer was no, except he never actually said that. Instead, he started talking about the bicycle manufacturing sector in Quebec… … ….?!!!!

Overall, I’m not going to pretend I speak for every single young person in the world. It’s easy to deny what I have said and dismiss it as biased or foolish or wrong; but that would be making a mistake. See, I know people my age aren’t voting, and I find is disappointing to. But I find lack of leadership and inspiration even more disappointing, so how about we stop taking the easy way out and blaming it on apathy. Just because we don’t care doesn’t mean we won’t care. You think we’re not smart enough? You’re the generation who voted to cut our freaking education. We can vote to cut your nursing home funding to save a dollar if you don’t help us understand Canadian values now. Just because we don’t care doesn’t mean we won’t care. Just show us there’s a reason to think that anything could ever change, and you will be blown away by the change we can make.

Shut Up About Social Justice

2011-12-02T06:33:00.000-08:00

Hey everyone, I know you're trying really hard to engage youth.

We're a flighty, fickle demographic and we smoke joints & don't vote & wear garish colours on our nails that you don't get but want to relate to. I really appreciate that you've listened to Arcade Fire a few times and tapped into the fact that we're super angry about how much we pay for a university education, but there comes a point where I need to call you out on your crap. People spend all of their time defending our committees & religions, so I’m going to stand up for mine. I don’t want to hear your crap about social justice. I just don't.

You know how angry I get when the stereotypical down home country boy/girl down South tells people that if they really love God, they'll vote for them? Yea, that's how I feel about your promises to care about what we have to say. EXCEPT you are in a very unique position! See, country boy/girl can't prove anything about how much they care about God. Of course, they can't prove God exists either, which is what makes that so challenging, but that's entirely irrelevant to my rant. They can go to church. They can fight legislation that takes religion out of schools. They can obey their partners and whatever else their particular breed of God loving tells them to do, but at no point can anyone say, "OH YEA, that guy is DOWN with Jesus." So despite the obvious comparison between you and them, you can actually rectify it!

See, I'm not anti social justice. No, quite the opposite. I'm anti people who talk a big game but don't score. I'm so fed up of people who wear Italian wool suits while giving 5 acrylic toques (my Canadian is showing) to a homeless shelter in front of cameras and telling themselves they did a good job. Your political correctness doesn't make your political policies any better Are you actually holding your speech in a hotel restaurant that my student wardrobe couldn't get me into? Can you just not look me in the eyes because you know how much your system has failed me? Yea, you want youth support, but you can't handle it. I play your game; I wear nice dresses and put on lipstick and use big words so people pay attention to me, but it's only to get in. Even if I had dreadlocks, even if I said, like, every, like, other, like, word, you should still give me the time of day. But you won't, because I'm "radical." Because I will tell you that you are killing homeless people when you, you know, are. So I will iron my clothes and show up at a restaurant with a name that has no capital letters in it (ironically) and pretend that you have the slightest idea what I'm on about so I can steal how exactly you got into any position of power and use that to put you out of a job.

I'm going to run some or all of this country some day, and there's nothing your promise of social justice can do about it.

The other day, while dining with the amazing woman who is exactly the opposite of what I'm complaining about here, my eloquent and intelligent boyfriend sighed that at 23, he didn't feel like he had ever actually lived through a truly progressive government. This isn't about a party. This isn't some partisan hacking. This is just the way it's been. We accept politicians for what they say they are. Appearing at an AIDS event makes you a philanthropist. Crossing your hands and sitting in a backwards chair makes you hip and relevant. People should stamp "left", "right," and "center" on their bodies and see how many people would actually disagree. If you can't use critical thinking skills to see through your own branding, the future is going to be hard on you.

I wear collared shirts and I love my grandparents. I don't want to eradicate capitalism, I want student loans on time. I want actual government assistance when I am in a situation that need it. I want to be taken seriously when I talk to you.

No, I'm not calling anyone out. No, I'm not naive enough to believe that one government will make this all better some day. But I just really need you to know, big politician, that sometimes faith in the country I was born in is the only thing that gets me through the day. Sometimes I shouldn't have to stop and pause before I say "This is Canada!" Sometimes I shouldn't have to be paranoid that my final year of university is just going to be the final year of a struggle before encountering another.

Sometimes social justice is the only thing I can believe in, so shut up about it until you actually plan to do something. Although I'm honestly sure you have great intentions, I just can't bear to hear you use it as a key demographic phrase instead of a manifesto from the heart.

Social justice is not a buzzword, it's what this country needs. It's what us "youths" need to get our bums to the polls. It's what the homeless need to get steady jobs. It's what people with mental health issues need to get better. It's what single parents need to get by. It's the one conviction in my heart that my parents planted at an early age. It's policy. It's non partisanship. It's supporting other people you don't agree with for a common goal. It's doing something. It's not talking.

So do something. Do something awesome. Do something that will inspire me, do something that will make me want to share it with all my cool youth friends and yell "HEY, there's HOPE." Because I promise you, if you don't, I will find you, and I will run against you. And I will win. And I will take everything you said you were going to do, and I will do it better, because I will actually DO it.

That's social justice to me.

Notes: Although I link to two partisan people, I'm not endorsing them. I just think they happen to be great examples of what I'm talking about. Yea, I'm biased. Yea, you are too. Let's get over that and actually think about what I have to say instead of taking the easy way out and making it about the colours of the signs, not the people.

Also, no, I am not publicly endorsing any one person. Yet.

How about we stop waiting for someone else to make us whole?

2011-11-30T07:44:00.000-08:00

I say this from the comfort of a relationship that I have never doubted, but I do not think that makes anything I say less true. I am not exaggerating when I say that almost every day I hear from girls who have never been kissed, girls who have loved and lost, girls who just don’t know if anyone will ever be as good as their ex, and all they can think about is what they’re doing wrong. We treat being alone as if it is loneliness, and there is no need. Furthermore, we think that there might actually be something wrong with us for being alone, as if everyone is joined with a Siamese twin attached at the heart that you just have to find somewhere. We change ourselves to solve our solitude. I don’t understand why. I have been there, and I do comprehend crying because there must be something wrong with your body if no one seems to want to hold it. I get listing off your favourite books and only including what is generally accepted as gender neutral. I’ve held my tongue so many times I almost bit it off so I would not make other people think that I was one of those scary, politically active women who might actually have hopes and dreams and goals and power. If there is one thing I have learned from the past two years, it is that all of these are wrong.

Love is great & natural. I am not preaching to lay low and wait until the perfect person walks into your life, because why wait? Waiting means you are occupying your time. You are wasting one of the only things in this universe that you can’t get back by filling your days doing something that is anything less than what you love. Being whole is accepting a partner as a condition, not a guarantee, and then not thinking about it… at least too much. No one else will fill any void in you. It is just a convenient way to explain to yourself why you are sad. You’re upset with life because you need something else. Chances are this something else is faith, not a partner.

You will always have regrets, but for some women especially are led to believe that their only real regret is loneliness. There are days when my heart pangs that I chose a smaller school instead of the more traditional, prestigious institutions of learning with brick walls that you see on the cover of People Who Made the Right Decisions Magazine. I frequently question why I haven’t left Halifax long ago, as much as I feel a strange sense of belonging here. I regret that I listened to my mother too much. I regret that I didn’t listen to my mother enough. I regret getting the wrong shade of nail polish. I regret quickly demolishing two croissants. Regret is inevitable; thrive because of it. Channeling all of your pain into the lack of presence of one person is a modern day fairy tale.

Instead, stand in the wind. Visit the ocean; there’s wind there! Go to art supplies stores and pick out richly patterned and textured sheets of paper to cover your walls. Learn how to do your hair in a signature way. Practice your written signature. Get rid of the books you don’t love and don’t read. Buy more books that you think will change your life. Write more, type less. Take another class. Learn another language. Join the Always Something Free Rice group. (Eh? Eh?) Own a pair of rain boots you’re actually happy to wear. Stay up until four am when the world is at its loneliest and decide you feel okay. Go on walks. Just walks. Treat every bus ride as an urban adventure. Get mad at corporate America, just for fun. Take road trips. Read every book ever written by one author. Write manifestos. Do what you can every day. Wear more lipstick.

Just ‘dealing’ with being single is settling for a second rate life. Physically throwing yourself out of bed every morning will not get you the completion you're looking for. Although right now it may seem like no one will ever hold you, even in a relationship you will not be happy until you can hold yourself. Take a deep breath & shake off the notion that adequacy is determined by companionship. As long as you are friends with yourself, you are never alone.

***
Hey Melissa, this is for you! xxxo
Next week I'll feature Katie's manifesto on waiting for perfection.

10 Things to do to learn a second language

2011-11-22T07:38:00.000-08:00

Bilingualism is something that frequently gets forgotten in a world that is crying for social justice. After all, with eating disorders and famines and children who can barely read their own language, how can we demand them to learn another? This twisted logic has contributed to the downfall of our education system. When we are struggling, we should demand more, not less. It is when we have problems that we need the most help. Maybe children would have stronger reading skills if it was about more than adding letters together to make some illogical sound. Maybe an appreciation of unique culture would be motivation to travel there. Maybe seeing how they do things elsewhere would revolutionize here. Isonationalism didn't work, and in an age where we can connect & hear everyone's voice, there's no reason we shouldn't. This means we have to understand what they're saying.

Quebec is Canada’s cousin who comes to holiday dinner, slouches when she sits even though she’s wearing Louboutins, and is just doing better than you in every way. While you are working a steady 9 to 5 and saving your for investment, Quebec has gone to Thailand, landed an amazing agency job despite taking a few years off school, and fed the homeless while she was at it. She’s musing about if she’ll find the time to revolt against corporate greed between her African cooking class and her nightly hot yoga session. Your mother insists she loves you all equally, but you see the way she admires Quebec. You loudly talk with your father about how he has to stop giving her money, about how she has to pull her weight just like everyone else. He holds up his hand, and sighs, “We almost lost her once.”

Separatism was the red scare of Canada. Sure, we hated those ambiguously ethnicitied commies just like everyone else, but we had to keep Quebec in line! After we tried to teach them how to speak English, they wanted to separate! Can you imagine?

As Canadians, we are on the brink of change and greatness. We can rise, or we can fall, and it is terrifying. Our country is both revolutionary worker programs progressive and down home biscuits traditional. We’re not some copy of anywhere else. We have no laws on abortion. None. We’re talking about euthanasia, and it’s a real discussion. We’re redefined words. Our government currently looks more like an underdog story than Rocky Balboa. Oh, and we’re bilingual.

Bilingualism remains highly politicized, as if knowing more than one tongue is a sham to appease French Canadians. Although we are growing and better understanding what a multifaceted framework can be, we still have politicians who think it is acceptable not to know both official languages. Being able to communicate with the country you are supposed to represent should not be a last minute demographic grab; it should be your daily ambition.

Maybe you didn’t like the face I gave Quebec in my first paragraph. Maybe you think I made her too lofty, or that I pandered to a stereotype. You’re right. Quebec doesn’t have a face anymore, and never did. Quebec has millions of faces, just like the rest of Canada, who want their own culture represented. So it’s high time we realized that being able to speak French isn’t about Quebec. In the great scope of the history of the language, French isn’t about separatism. Being bilingual in Canada has a deep rooted heritage goes far beyond one province. This beautiful opportunity needs to be taken advantage of.

***

10 Ways to Learn a Second Language

(This is certainly directed speaking French, but more than adaptable to any situation.)

-Read good children’s books! You will not start off able to comprehend Sartre. Get the image of simplistic plots and simple characters out of the way; many are written to have a double entendre (See what I did there?) and deeper meanings. Le Petit Prince is a beautiful existential crisis about the meaning of love that you can read in grade two or at eighty two. It is one of my favourite books ever.

-Look up expressions as they do not translate as well. Translation is not the same as adaptation, so to truly speak a language you cannot use a dictionary word for word. Listen to people speak. Ask questions about what they actually mean. We all know “the cat’s meow” has nothing to do with felines.

-Change your social media settings to another language. The posts, e-mails, and etc. will obviously still be in whatever language your friends speak, but everything else will help you pick up little words that are important for every day conversation but not frequently taught.

-Download an app or read an instruction manual in French. Prose is one thing, but actual directions are another. Frequently, photos and arrows will help you learn. Also, it can’t hurt your self esteem!

-Many young women flock over the Cherry Blossom girl, but I'm going to suggest le dans la as the ultimate pretty images with a bit of writing at the end blog. Swoon away.

-Write love letters in other languages! This will help you be creative instead of using cookie cutter sentences. True love can’t be pieced together by freetranslation.com.

-Use a different culture’s cookbook. The food will likely be more authentic, and the photos will help guide you along. Besides, doesn’t the temptation of food make it worthwhile?

-If you have the money, THIS. If not, well, I still think these videos are so lovely. LIVE THE LANGUAGE.

-Visit immigration hot spots in your neighborhood, especially at restaurants, where you have to pronounce the food. Ask for help and say it correctly. It can help you identify common sounds like ae and oi and ou. Although none are universal, many European languages all share czy and ts and other daunting letter alignments.

-Pronounce everyone's last name as they like it to be pronounced, even if you have to graciously e-mail them before the event/etc to ask for help. I’m sure they won’t mind, you’ll wrap your tongue around a new sound, and you won’t look like an inconsiderate jerk, which is much more important. This only kind of actually helps your language abilities, but I thought I would include it because for some reason many people around me seem to think mispronouncing a name is okay as long as you laugh “at your stupidity” and insincerely apologies after. This really isn’t the case. Your should be embarrassed of your ignorance if you have had time to prepare ahead, which usually you will.

-Finally, and eleventh (shh!), reading awe inspiring works of great authors in your native language will make you realize how much more you would get out of the book if you were to read their ideas as they penned them. Authors choose words with beauty & purpose. Although many translators excel at their job, you know how to play the game of telephone. As ideas are whispered through people’s ears, the original meaning is changed and lost. As you take a step back to admire what people were actually thinking, maybe ideas of your own will flourish.

Healthy is not Enough

2011-11-16T12:20:00.001-08:00

I’ve hated my body for about twelve years. I am not healthy.

I only took a few minutes to myself to sit by Lake Ainselie and actually reflect before scurrying back to make some memories with my family. Reflection is good, but eventually leads to promises that something will change. When you actually take an honest, scary second to think about your life, the negative things usually come first, and you focus so much on resolving to work them out that you can miss what they actually mean.

I was eight both the first time I called myself a feminist, and the first time I cried because my stomach stuck out. Long before logic had formed in my head, images of what was worth being had. My mixed ideologies meant I would be a modern, working woman who was empowered, but I would also be thin and lovely. Looking at pictures of Natalie Portman gave me no answers, but loads of inspiration. Uncoordinated and thus unatheletic, I spent many of my teenage years hungry.

I have always been angry at societal norms that made me hate myself, but for the first time, I became panicked. I stared into the cold depths of a famous lake where vogue politicians of the past took their families to summer and imagined coming back in warmer months, only to realize that I could never allow myself to be in a bathing suit around other people. I always saw the shame for the body I mistreat, but am forced to wear, as some kind of teenage shenanigan that I could grow out of. I am twenty one, and I don’t see a fixed end in sight. Through literal thick and thin I have cried after looking in the mirror no matter what I did to myself. Although my sweaty nights crouched next to a toilet are over, I walk with a silent inferiority complex that is always criticizing myself. Is this all we can aspire for young women? Will we fix the ventricles by pumping in vitamins but never actually repair our Hearts?

For all of the positivity and charm of self help books, there is no step by step guide to loving yourself. Take a bath! the Internet tells me when I am feeling bad, as if I will dip in the tub and emerge with perfect hip bones. Develop a mantra. Kiss yourself in the mirror. Certainly, improving my mood helps, but there is no revolution in my heart. It seems like instead of true self love, we are just aiming for cheering ourselves up and pulling us into tomorrow.

I am so lucky. My everloving holds the whole me; touching my body and he fires enough compliments to try to get through the main wall in my mind. He cooks me delicious dinners and I eat enough and more but not too much. He understands that sometimes I cry. He says that I am perfect, and it is an exciting relief to be enough for him, but it is not enough for me yet. It has almost become more about the philosophy of perfection then ever actually attaining it. I have been thin. Very thin. Too thin. It was then that I was unhappiest of all.

When I turned 20, I decided to stop hating myself. I don’t know how, and I wish I remembered. I do not know if I can repeat the lost steps over and over until it turns into self love, or if this is my sign to move any way as long as it’s forwards. But I am not interested in myself any longer.

You are reading thing, and I thank you, but I need something else from you. I am fed up of cautionary tales. I don’t want to undo steps. I am tire of having to progress to zero before I can even start to feel happy with who I am. I want you to start caring, and not just the type of caring that is painful but convenient. I need you to let out who you are inside. I know how angry we all are at letting people trick us into anything less than excellent, so why on Earth would we allow this to happen to girls?

Create a relationship with the next generation. It is never too early to start thinking about what the future needs, and I can promise you that it needs more love. There is too little time and too much to do for another fleet of young women to be sent into the world full of self doubt. We can’t stop global warming if we are always hungry. Injustice will prevail if we are not strong enough to stand up, both mentally and physically.

The older version of me needed you to read her a book, to think critically with her, to go on a walk around town, to take funny pictures, to show her what I am now saying with better words. It’s too late, and that’s okay, because there are so many other girls who need to start at the beginning, not attempt to climb back up after they’re already started at a loss. Whether reading this is enough or you need to go have a lake moment of your own, I only ask that you no longer suffer in silence.

Channel you anger into a passionate thought revolution and we can be stronger than any advertising campaign. Although the media is always shouting at young women, if you take the time to stand beside her, your voice and values will always be louder.

10 Easy Ways to Fight Apathy Without Really Moving

2011-11-10T04:05:00.000-08:00

I haven't organized a protest in a while, but that doesn't mean I don't care.

I think when it comes to being involved in your community, especially as youth, there is a certain fear that if you do not make a huge commitment you are not a good enough person. We grow up in an age of under valued organizations that show us excellent role models who do it all, but then first out after a few years. I'm going to tell you what most people won't: do what you can, & do a little of it, & do it very, very well.

Connections aren’t the same as they used to be. We are aware of others' suffering, and we know it is inconvenient. I make no sweeping assumptions, but I think it's fair to say that we've lost a lot of a sense of community, even amongst our friends. We have no excuse; we hardly communicate with the three hundred plus people we are friends with on Facebook despite knowing everything about them. Don't mistake this article for something applauding slacktivism; quite oppositely, I think so many of us are so confused that they don't even know how to really start caring again.

Start here, and go from here. I am telling you how to begin, which is sometimes the hardest part. Whatever you do, just don't let them tell you it can't be done.

***

10 Things:

-Caring doesn’t always have to be ‘activism’ based. You may not be able to put ‘a good friend’ on your college application, but mental illness affects over 20% of Canadians, and all of just have rough days from time to time. Don’t you feel special when you’re going through a hard time and someone reaches out to you? When talking to a friend who’s experiencing a hard go, make sure you write down in your calendar to talk to her later. Even if she’s feeling better, she’ll appreciate that you were thinking about her & concerned about how she’s feeling.

-With many modern lamps, you can have three turned on and still use less electricity than an overhead light, if you really feel you need that much light! Besides, your apartment will look so much cooler! Nothing shining above your head will ever compete with the sun, so why bother trying?

-There are posters absolutely everywhere, and getting your cause noticed goes beyond having good graphic design. Put pamphlets in the washrooms of local businesses! Seriously, do it! I would really rather not go into detail, but I can guarantee more people will read it. Just make sure the stories you’re telling are more inspirational than heart wrenching... or gut wrenching… Bonus points: If you put a huge poster literally across from the toilet. Why yes, I am a genius. A sick, sick genius.

-Put your professional skills to use. All volunteers are great, but having a more unique gift to give can make you invaluable to an organization. Maybe they need someone to work with their spreadsheets, an amateur dj to give them on-air shout out, or a graphically minded person to make their logo a bit more modern. Pitch your ideas; they won’t know what you can or are willing to do until you offer. I can’t make time commitments, but I can write press releases at 3 am, and that’s the kind of volunteering that works for me in busier months.

-Fact check fact check fact check. All of the volunteering in the world won’t rectify a bad argument or debate you have with one individual. I know we love talking about what we care about, so make sure you do it right! I’m preparing a major eating overhaul after reading some really gross stories about modern food, and I’ve discovered that a lot of things, like eggs, are actually cheaper at the Halifax Farmer’s Market than at major grocery stores, contrary to what people say.

-Pay with your remote, your social media, and your mouth. It’s one thing to be outraged about a topic that matters to you, but I jokingly refer to Sarah Palin as She Who will not be Named. Everyone will always have differing opinion on politicians, and you should never mistake snark for activism. If that’s what you enjoy doing, great, but giving your attention to news sites you think are too biased, buying into punditry, and promoting idiots, even in a negative light, results in more clicks on their webpage, which feeds directly into their pocket books.

-Take a nontraditional approach to donating. A few winters ago I donated an unused manicure set that I got for Christmas to a woman’s shelter. I know bundling everything up and throwing it at Value Village may be easy, but they’re making a lot of money off what you give them, especially now that they’re owned by ... uh... someone! Of course, certain charities may not want what you have to give, but at least inquiring could mean a manicure for a woman who’s never been able to afford one.

-Don’t be wasteful. I know you’re not drinking bottled water any more, and you’ve probably been told to use a reusable bag so many times you want to choke me for even mentioning it. But do you, like me, have an affinity for brightly coloured paper napkins? I also jam leftovers into zipper plastic sacks in a rush in the morning. There are cloth napkins that are easily washable. These fabric reusable bags are adorable. I need to start carrying a Thermos. Study your habits & adapt.

-Sign up for an MP’s mailing list RIGHT NOW. This is better than "liking" a page on Facebook or anything of the sort because literally every single event goes into their mailing list. This has been true for the three politicians who's information I receive. Because I usually volunteer at events, I am considered somewhat of a "regular" despite only helping every few months. Usually, I hand out beer at fundraiser. That's it. I hand out beer. BUT I AM THE BEST BEER HANDER-OUTER OUT THERE.

-Join the Always Something freerice.com! I know it seems very small, but by being in our group & playing for five minutes a day, you can see some extraordinary results! And, my knowing obscure 1800s authors & semi random words has never been better. And, we can talk & chill &... just do it. It will be great, & together we'll change the world. Because you want to change the world right? Right.

Because if you didn't, you wouldn't be here.

Good first step.

Embracing Monday

2011-11-07T04:05:00.000-08:00

Frequently, you will notice that I address major issues and controversial topics a few weeks after it seems that they have passed. Or perhaps you have read an article about my involvement in something, only to notice that when the issue is broached on the news again, I am mute. No, it is not that I have an incredibly ill sense of timing, or that I take on the goal of supporting something lightly, but more that if something is in the news, chances are someone else will have said it more eloquently, more cleverly, and more share worthy, so why wouldn't I direct you to their interesting article instead?

Although my collection of Monday links may always seem a little random, that's largely because I am as well.

- A remarkable look into how our country works, and a fight for what Canada "really" believes in. I also find all of the anti Quebecois comments very interesting. We're at an important point in our country's history right now...

-Whether you upload a regular photo from your collection or preexisting pattern, you will be entertained!

-This is a robot test. If your day isn't made, you're a robot.

-You know those code games you played as a child? Grown up version.

- I was making a sign for work's kitchen, & typed in 'bagel face' expecting cartoon. I did not expect this.

- There are many places I would like to travel, and what is at the top of the list is always changing. For now, because of this video, it is Iceland.

-This is probably the most amazing question ever asked to an advice columnist. It involves Russian hats.

-Requisite crush for all Canadians (male or female) interviews KERMIT the FROG. Swoon.

-Bad words, good intentions.

- Be inspired how to dress for work & laugh each time? Yes, thank you, yes.

What it's Like to Be a freelancing graphic designer

2011-11-03T06:46:00.000-07:00

Internet cool girl Andrea MacDonald made some time to talk to me recently. And I literally mean made time. Between a full time job, a successful freelancing career, completely re-doing her apartment, and redditing like nobody's business, she somehow managed to dish what it was like to take the scary plunge into working for yourself. Everyone tells you that a strong passion is enough to get by, and judging by her successful new career and portfolio of happy clients, Andrea would agree, but it takes a lot more. Dedication, modern Internet street smarts, a strong social network, and just being generally awesome seem to be what has launched her into the remarkable career she is creating. Eager to inspire others who may be more on the fence about doing their careers themselves, Andrea was kind enough to walk me through how she became the fire cracker she is today.

***

How did you get involved in graphic design? What made you decide you wanted to pursue a career in it?

To be honest, I don’t exactly remember when I first got involved in graphic design. I remember being on Piczo websites (remember those doozies?) at a young age, and had a blast making them. I then went from Piczo to FrontPage and designed some actual websites on that. (None were ever published, thankfully!) I was introduced to Fireworks by my brother-in-law when I was in grade eight, so that sparked my interest in creating graphics. It wasn’t until high school that I got really into design. I was introduced to Mac computers & the Adobe Suite by one of my teachers (thanks, Stub!) and from there I began teaching myself the in and outs of Photoshop and InDesign.

I think I did every poster for every event in my high school from grade ten and up. It wasn’t until grade twelve that I started to seriously think about a career in the field. I always thought I was going to be an English teacher. Thanks to the resources at my high school, and the fun I had doing graphic design, it became my passion and decided to do my postsecondary at the Centre for Arts and Technology in Halifax.

Describe your overall aesthetic.

Hmm. I think that since I’m a new designer, I’m still trying to define my ‘style,' I look at things and I’m like, "Whoa, that’s really cool!" It could be a very minimalist design, or the complete opposite. I seem to always be attracted to bright, fun colors when I design. I love playing with shapes, patterns and I’m not afraid of color. I want design to be limitless, with limitations. (Does that make sense? Probably not.) I’m inspired somehow by everything around me, good or bad. Whether I’m driving somewhere and I see a sign, or walking down the street and see someone’s shirt, inspiration is everywhere! It comes in different forms depending on the designer.

You recently started freelancing. What inspired that decision? What’s the best thing about it? What’s the worst?

Freelancing is something that was really foreign to me until I was finishing up school. After I was done, that’s what I did until I found a full time job. It’s fun because you get to meet a variety of people that introduce challenges that can push you as a designer. You never really know what to expect.

The hard part about freelancing (especially as a new designer) is getting clients. When you’re just starting out, you usually don’t have a lot of variety in your portfolio, nor do you have the experience to deal with clients. It’s something you just have to learn on your own. You definitely learn from your mistakes and it gets easier with each new client.

Time management is another hard thing. The more clients you get, the harder it is to stay organized. Being organized is crucial if you’re going to be a successful freelancer!

Do you have any advice for budgeting as a starting freelancer?

Budgeting was definitely a huge hurdle for me. As a junior designer, I had a tendency to charge way less than I should have. It’s the mentality that the work is ‘good enough’ and therefore I shouldn’t be charging a lot. This is harmful because you’re selling yourself short, and getting a reputation as a cheap designer. There are a lot of factors that come in to play when you’re deciding on budgets. (There are a lot of great articles out there!) Whether you want to work on a fixed price or hourly rate, time, revisions, etc., plan it all out, and stick to it! Don’t under price your work! People are paying for a service they can’t provide, and they chose you do to it. That means something!

Tell us about your job. Who are some neat people you have worked for?

Well, I just started a new job (full time) at a Marketing Solutions company. I’m a Graphic and Marketing Specialist there, but I continue to do freelance on the side. What's great about being a graphic designer in general is the people that you meet. There are so many different ways to network, and through these so many opportunities rise. Social media plays such an important role when it comes to the graphic design industry, so being a ‘social butterfly’ is extremely beneficial to any up and coming designer. I think it’s really cool when people call or email me and are like, ‘I found you on (Google/Twitter/Some other website) and I really like your stuff...’ It goes to show how important having a presence on the internet is. I always get a sense of accomplishment, because of all the portfolios they may have looked at, they really like mine. Always a compliment!

What’s it like to be a woman working with computers? Do you find most of your peers are male, or is it more even in your field now?

I don’t know if it’s just me being paranoid/silly, or if it’s actually the case – but I always feel like I’m treated differently because I’m a woman that works in a male-dominated industry. I always feel like they don’t think I know what I’m doing/talking about. Then I totally break out a can of whoopass and show them how talented/awesome I am. (I may be exaggerating a little bit.) (A's note: she's not. She has a can of whoopass.) BUT I do always prove myself. I may come across as someone who you wouldn’t think would be in this field, but I love it. I love everything about computers! I watch nerdy tech conferences and TV shows. I’m a Redditor. I’d rather buy an iMac than groceries. I love being a woman in an industry with mostly males. I tend to stand out and surprise people, which is really satisfying.

A lot of people have been signging your praises lately. Who?

A few months ago (April-ish) I was featured on cssmania.com, which is pretty cool. It is a website that showcases fresh, new website designs. From that, I was featured on a number of design blogs, and my website/myself were featured on some lists, such as topdesignmag.com’s list of '20 Superior Web Design Agencies or Freelancers Websites.'

Andrea's top 5 sites for inspiration are

You can send Andrea love notes & money in exchange for improved aesthetic at her website (where all of these images are from.) You can ask her questions & tell her she rocks via Twitter. You can oogle her life here.

The 10 things I know about picking out a good neighbourhood

2011-11-01T06:31:00.000-07:00

I liked hardwood floors, lots of sunlight, and a landlord who would let us paint the place reasonable colours. Luke wanted a building where he could occasionally yell at the television when his teams weren’t doing so well. However, there was one thing that neither of us was willing to compromise on, and that was a good neighbourhood.

Get your head of of boxy, plastic siding, and sprawl. Good doesn’t mean the prepackaged image of little children running across ample lawns! I know "good neighbourhood" is definitely something your parents would tell you to care about before right before trashing the sketchy bar you love being next to right before they tell you to get that metal thing off of your face before they rip it out but still, their heart is in the right place. They have a point.

Most students I know tend to ignore neighbourhoods. Half my friends don’t understand why I don’t live in the student sprawl where groceries are a twenty minute walk away but liquor, school, and pricey convenience stores are right there! The others insist that if I saved money by living in the suburbs I could afford a car! And that car would get me into the city so it just makes sense right! Right!!!! RIGHT?

Determined to avoid both people running down my street yelling obscenities at 3 am and a gas consumption dependance, we ended up plunking ourselves down into a centrally located neighbourhood that is the perfect mix of residential and amenities. When we decided to step away from our roommates and find a place of our own, we ended up in a one bedroom apartment just. around. the corner. Literally. We carried all of our posessions down the street.

I know when you're trying to find the perfect house, it's hard to even consider exactly where this ideal lot might be. Of course, good neighbourhoods mean different things to different people as well. I do not have a check list, but I do have the slightest bit of insight. Maybe my mom scowled at me when I told her what street I was going to live on, and maybe I gave up the chance to have a pool, but there's something really beautiful about feeling just as much like you're coming home when you step out of your apartment as when you step in.

***

I Notice:

-Are there trees? I know you think I’m going to tell you that trees are good for the environment, which they are. Maybe you think I will wane poetically about how they’re aesthetically glorious. Yes, trees are nature’s wall decals. However, what trees really contribute to a neighborhood is the sense of planning. Unless you’re living in coyote country, no tree goes up or stays up in even a smaller town without some kind of decision. A street lined with trees states that your municipal government at least kind of cares about where you live. I can assure you that a bunch of poplars did not just magically grow on their own. This was intentional, and that intent and zoning probably carries over into areas other than trees.

-Can you see bicycles? Between bikes & trees, I know I’m sounding a bit preachy, but hear me out. If you can see bicycles, everyone can. Of course, there is no neighborhood where a lock isn’t occasionally picked, but if it happened frequently enough, the bikes would start to be kept inside. Lots of bikes out? This must be a safe neighbourhood.

-Is there public transit? Even if the bus makes you hold your nose. Even if you never, ever take it. If there’s no bus, you won’t live a place worth going. Besides, you never know when your method of transportation decides it hates you that day.

-Where can I buy medicine at 3 am? Maybe you are more organized than me, and know to buy some hot lemon drink the second you start to get the sniffles, but I prefer to tell myself that they will go away and huddle under blankets until all of the coughing and sneezing is finally enough and I start crying at the wee hours of the morning. I am less than five minutes away from two 24 hour pharmacies, and they save my life all of the time. Of course, this also means I am less than five minutes away from 24 hour cupcakes... My willpower works in funny ways.

-Are people buying up the entire block? This means it is an up and coming area and trendy things like organic restaurants and pricey sunglasses shops will come in soon. Maybe this will appeal to you. Keep it in mind. I currently live near a place that has beer league hockey and Marc Jacobs. Unfortunately, not in the same building. THAT would be a good neighbourhood!

-How far am I away from everywhere I want to go? Sometimes people get too stuck on one event and then forgot to do others. I used to live on one of Halifax’s biggest streets, Spring Garden Road. I boozed and shopped and not much else. Being so close to just one of my hobbies made me neglect the others and overindulge. Now, I like living about 15 minutes away from everything. I have a better relationship with my parents because bussing is less aggravating, and I volunteer more because I am so close to nonprofits I care about. When you are used to not having to walk places, even a short jaunt can feel like an eternity away. Overindulgence is never a good thing.

Other things I like about my centrally located, more residential neighbourhood is how close it usually is to second hand things. There is a flea market across the street, and there is almost always a bookshelf for sale on Kijiji in walking distance. As if I would ever get a piece of furniture new, as if!

-Where can I go for a run? I’m not going to pretend that my behind looks very good in athletic shorts and go on expounding the value of exercise, but if you can’t mentally map out a route to run, then chances are the infrastructure is beyond repair, the area is uninspiring, or you do not feel safe where you are living. These are all bad things.

-How diverse is the neighbourhood? I mean, if you really want to be in a corner of a city surrounding your school that only has students, then good for you! Someone is always willing to do the liquor run! Likewise, if you feel the most comfortable around other people in similar socioeconomic positions, well, that is up to you. However, Luke goes to the basketball court that always has a multitude of races instead of some more, uh, less diverse courts in the city because he says the variety of backgrounds usually has a higher skill level and that ups his game. I just like living close to a place that sells salted cod ready to go. We all have our priorities...

-There is no greater indicator of culture than what’s posted on the phone polls in your area. Tidily typed school fundraisers? Hand drawn, rebellious, revolutionary pamphlets? Maybe they’re bare and staple free. Do not overlook this. Go out and read what's on the polls. It will probably tell you something about whether you'll like your neighbours. According to our phone poles, our neighbours like to booze and fall asleep in cabs and start revolutions and design sweet posters. I like your, neighbours, I like you.

-Finally & quickly: If you are locked out & it is freezing, is there somewhere for you to go and read a magazine until you wait for everloving and excellent boyfriend to come home and save you from your hypothermic state? I read the new issue of Real Simple the other day... They recommended hiding an extra copy of your key outside your house. How clever some people are... Imagine that.

Oh well. Good excuse for a cupcake.

What it's like to be diagnosed with a mental illness

2011-10-26T12:24:00.000-07:00

Everyone suffers from stigma sometimes, but bold yet charming Leslie decided to fight back. Armed with the power of the Internet and a whole lot of passion, she regularly chronicles all of the things that no one dares to say about living with mental illness. As the media portrays anything deemed “abnormal” as both meek and submissive or scary and dangerous, Leslie stands out and brings the focus back on what mental health is really about: every day people with very different and very important challenges. Whether it’s something as every day as getting to important meetings or terrifying burdens like trying to get an insurance company to recognize that depression needs real treatment, I was instantly drawn in by her often positive but always realistic approach to life.

“There really isn't much of me that's too interesting,” she modestly lies to me, “but there is plenty to say about the whole process of having a mental breakdown whilst at my worst. I’m trying to learn how to do something new. People don’t understand how many aspects of mental health there are. ‘Get healthy’ means navigating the health care system, navigating the insurance industry, learning about my specific illness, microanalyzing my lifestyle to even know what I need to do to start, getting healthy, taking medications, knowing the difference between side effects & symptoms of illness, being in a relationship while I'm going into a bad place… This all really speaks to the need for advocacy in our province.”

Reading what Leslie has to say, you automatically get the impression she is talked a mile a minute just because there is so much information. Where many books can read as preachy and health care professionals can seem detached from the situation, Leslie cuts through the crap and states the many failings of the systems around her that are supposed to help her recovery. Contentedly capeless, she is a real life superhero fighting to get the voice of sick people everywhere heard with humour and grace.

Full of nothing but praise for her supportive boyfriend (“I'm not sure what I would have done without him & his acceptance.”) and scathing critique of her psychiatrist (“There are mental health scripts!”), working on Leslie’s story meant both letting out a laugh and shedding a tear.

***
"I wasn’t enjoying my life; I was surviving. It was so difficult to finally admit I had a problem; the fact I couldn’t fix this on my own was hard to accept. People don’t realize that someone who is mentally unfit may need help getting help. I had a decent job, I am smart, I am articulate & creative, yet something wasn't clicking. I wasn't achieving success. I smiled all the time so no one could see me cry. I didn't know why I was so damn afraid of everything, why my senses always seemed overburdened. I could feel that something was wrong but I just kept pushing through life waiting to 'feel' better. Eventually it became so that my physical symptoms were so severe I was forced to admit my mental woes. Most people don't realize mental illness IS physical! It's in my brain, and my brain is a physical part of my body. Depression has many physical symptoms; needing excessive sleep, not sleeping at all, and other things happening inside my body… Something had to change.

Finding the proper help during crisis was a nightmare. I clearly saw how easily someone could fall through the cracks. Homeless, jobless, without income... These are realities many people with mental illness face. When the problem is cognitive, emotive, AND mental, engaging in the process of healing is challenging.

Mentally ill are often feared, treated as 'dumb' or not capable of regular human functioning. Stigma is more than prevalent. Before I finally 'cracked,' I had tried talking to my boss about needing time for me. They spoke to me in a very condescending manner. If it were cancer, I think I would have gotten sympathy rather than the third degree. At no time was our employee assistance program recommended. My boss told me was sick days were for when I was really sick, and if I need a day to myself, well, that's what vacations were for. I thought vacations were for fun & rejuvenation! Not keeping my head above water ... I discovered crisis help and free counseling on my own while I figured out a recovery plan, but it was just another stressor.

I've survived mental illness most of my life only seeking treatment in my late 20s, mainly because my family. Anxiety has been an issue since early childhood, and depression has weighed on me since my teens. When I went through a depressive anxiety ridden period when I was about 8 or 9 years old, it was written off as a phase. It was dismissed. There is definitely a problem with people not taking mental health seriously enough! If I had childhood diabetes I'd have been diagnosed and treated quickly. I remember crying on my way to social functions on many occasions but being told I was 'silly' and to snap out of it. I excelled in school and was athletic, so teachers never thought to step in.

A diagnosis of GAD PTSD & MDD* only came this year. Now, I have directly explained my condition and have received kindness, love, and acceptance. I don't think they fully understand, but their acceptance can be best described by my youngest sister’s response: "So? You're still you. Are you going to be okay?” Now, they are there for me. I know that. And that's fabulous.

Mental illness is still very taboo. People suddenly think you're losing cognitive ability when really it's emotive. They don't want to trust you. Friendships suffer. I gave up self medicating about 7 years ago, which has means I have socially isolated myself. I have few (no?) friends. I can’t leave the house without getting sick first. I got tired of cancelling plans, so I stopped making them. I was also not able to finish university despite two attempts at going. My energy does not allow working and studying full time. Grades were acceptable (B's some A's) but I couldn't keep up. I was barely surviving.

I have found new ways to connect and cope. I love movies, especially ‘bad’ movies! Cheesy 80's flicks. Horror movies. Bad romcom's. Documentaries are my lifeblood. I kinda like video games. I am an Internet JUNKIE. I'm an avid reader and writer. I love nature and camping. I love to dance (poorly!) and music has always been a strong interest even though I don't play anything. Really though, my number one love is learning. I love problems and finding solutions. If I could be a professional student I would. Alas, it's not in the cards for now.

I reach out for help online a lot and have found an AMAZING community of supportive people on Twitter. This has allowed me to talk about my experience going through mental illness honestly and openly so it isn't hidden from the public. I also network with other people who are experts in the field. Social media also gives me the opportunity to get my feet wet being comfortable with social exchange. Social anxiety has been the most debilitating part, and my Twitter network has helped so much. I have connected with some amazing people!

I am also social justice junkie (some people call them activists, whatever that means, haha). I support to various causes online, including ending the prohibition of marijuana, especially those in medical need. Trying to make the world a better place makes me want to stay a part of it, you know? Suicide has definitely been something I've had to confront. While I've not gone through with an attempt, I have written my goodbyes many times. I don't want to say goodbye to a world I know is possible of wonder and change and revolution.
Each day I help make that possible is another day I thrive, instead of just survive."

*I have decided the specific diagnosis shouldn't matter to the reader, but obviously you are able to find out more information through Google & etc.

Embracing Monday... on Tuesday

2011-10-18T06:50:00.000-07:00

Remember how eager I was to get an apartment for just L & I?

Yes, in a very vague sense, but everything is starting to come together. Endless scouring of vintage stores has given me retro fabric for curtains and sturdy furniture, but I am holding out until we paint some time in the next month before I really show you anything. In the mean time, I think we're both quite happy!

Links

-This comic is geared at the ladies, but I'm willing to bet that men go through things like this all the time too. Can we right a book about gender dispairty called "Everyone's Awkward" and get it over with?

-Tom Morello is singing your songs & making them better! (PS: I don't know who made the accompanying video, but it is anything but light hearted.)

-I would like to see this in real life.

-Paloma is a genius at everything, so I thought I would share what she's carrying around. (I am a secret snoop.)

-Drawn Off Topic is genius. I may not agree with this piece at all really, but man it's fun to read & picture who is telling the story.

-You know when it's 4 am & you're watching clips from TV shows on youtube & wondering if there's anyone out there who understands you? It seems like this girl does. Yay! Our souls are secretly intertwined.

-"But we also talked about risk, and the choices each made, good and bad: one of the worst prospects they saw, which each of them thought about a great deal, was that they would judge only the risk to themselves, and not to the locals that they worked with or encountered. That is not only a women’s dilemma, of course; it is very much an American one. Women and men alike can leave others behind when they go to war—and be left—and take risks whose outlines they can only begin to make out."

-Can you believe that out of all these gorgeous book covers, this one is one of my favourites? What's yours?

-Because I'm always looking for new music, I thought I'd ask around. Thankfully Rebecca, K, and Christine all obliged me with some very different & very awesome answers. I love you guys!

-You've probably already seen it, but just because & just in case.

-& photo guru K was kind enough to truly Embrace Monday in one of the best ways I've ever seen.

Much love to my link supplier supremes Christine, Katharine, Katie, Alexis, Rebecca, Emily, Alli, & Sammi for all the excellent help.

No One Has Spoken to Everyone. Everyone is Not a Demographic.

2011-10-14T06:04:00.000-07:00

Oh little activists, I see you out there screaming about injustice at the top of your lungs and I love you for it.

I am not going to pretend that many of you are naïve or not misguided, but please understand that I am not saying these things to be patronizing. I am not saying I love what you stand for any less. I just want to tell you that one day you will likely see things differently, and that is not a bad thing. Stay strong.

Hey people in our community, I really expected more of you. I know it can be hard not to choke on your meal when some “ignorant little snot” gets in a snit about workers in Venezuela not being paid fairly for the coffee you’re drinking, or that they dare not to eat the turkey that you slaved over for the holidays. Yes, frequently the younger generation lacks tact, and it can be difficult to swallow, but that does not make what they are standing for any less valid.

When we are young and we look at the world, we want to fix it. When we age, we think we get wiser, so we insist on “looking at all aspects” of it and pointing out flaws in dissenting arguments. Of course, thinking critically is always important, but when did you forget what was right? You know that gut feeling you have? The one that you didn’t get from forgetting to take Tums or your aging stomach? It’s telling you to listen. It’s telling you that there is still learning to be done.

I am not going to pretend that the youth screaming about revolution always practice what they preach. I walk through protests and see just as much Club Monaco & Starbucks as I do social justice. I see iPhones made in sweatshops tweeting about liberating Libya. I see knuckles white from clutching 5 dollar mocha-frappa-ccino-lattes as they bark that the government isn’t helping to alleviate hunger. I see those who won’t make eye contact with the homeless in their own country yelling impassioned speeches for famine abroad. We’re sorry, and we’ll learn. We are hypocrites, but who isn’t? We all sleep on soft beds and feel guilty. The human condition is everyone has it worse than us. The planet is made up of beautiful suffering. There is joy in a broken world. This is not pessimistic, but speaking what everyone knows, if they just stop ignoring the instinct blocking it out.

So you’re saying Occupy Wall Street has no point just because their message is about emotions instead of laws. Their ideas are not succinct enough for you. It’s okay. The revolution will not have press releases, although it will probably start on tumblr.

I understand that you think the government will infringe on your freedom of speech if we make some decisions about what constitutes a hate crime. Freedom is important. Freedom for everyone in a society to feel comfortable and safe is most important of all. To speak is one thing, to shriek about all homosexuals being pedophiles and fill childrens’ heads with rumours of conspiracy is not expressing yourself, it is hurting others. When we allow qualms of “justice” to detract from what is right, that is injustice. You are not the court. While they have rules and laws to think of, we have our community, not the senate. We can afford some compassion for other people who are trying to make society great.

Oh yes, there are flaws. The 99% movement is inevitably temporary, and change can’t be. And of course, this isn’t a thumb to the nose against due process when it comes to prosecuting people. This is about listening to what everyone else is saying, and maybe being surprised by what you hear. This is about thinking of other people before you open your mouth. This is about having a heart instead of looking smart in front of your peers.

Stay strong little activists. You are naïve, misguided and hopeful, and you are the future that will change us all.

I Love You, But Do You Love You?: A Guide on Accepting Yourself for the Unique Woman that You Are

2011-10-12T05:33:00.000-07:00

It’s hard to not be drawn into Katie’s world. Whether it’s her engaging smile or passion for equality, what she adds to her environment can’t be ignored. I’m privileged enough to communicate with her regularly, and encouraged her to share her feelings about something that really matters to us both: feeling our best each day. I re-read this letter after dealing with some rough times this weekend, and it helped me deal with my anger and resentment. I hope Katie’s advice hits your heart & makes your day the same way it made mine. -Always, A.

A couple of weeks ago, I felt so low that I started hating myself for not being able to control things that I felt like I should be able to. It wasn’t until my friend, who’s completely lovely in both personality & appearance, started echoing the same thoughts upon herself that I realized that something had to be done.

This had to stop.

In high school, I was a bit of a misfit. Always yelling at some jerk for calling some poor, defenseless freshman a homophobic slur, I gained quite the reputation for being...let’s say tempestuous. I’ve grown up a bit (for the most part!), but I still feel the need to DO something when I see/hear the comments that people -girls especially- make towards themselves and other people. Those feelings don’t just end with remarks. There are so many negative things this can lead to: remarks made about other people, eating disorders, wrist cutting, and shame. Besides, when you are feeling bad, that means you’re not doing something else that could be improving someone’s life. What do horrible remarks contribute to society?

Nothing. They only create a world of more sadness.

Why do you feel low? Is it because you want to look like Jessica Alba? I assure you, Jessica Alba has her fair share of those days. I don’t know what you look like and I don’t care, but I know that it’s your personality that people notice, not your jean size. Chances are, if you’re reading Allison’s blog, you’re a very intelligent human being. I know that with many people watching Jersey Shore in their free time it can seem like intelligence is underrated, but that’s not real life! The people who really matter in this world can see beyond your hair style and outfit.

How many times do we use the term “liberation?” We hear it in relation to politics, even religious deities, but we never seem to use it for ourselves. Society has impressed it in us that we need another person to improve our lives. Understand that I’m not trying to try to convert you away from any belief system that you hold dear, I’m trying to help you realize that YOU are what your religion/society needs. Think of the good that you could do if you didn’t waste your time hating your appearance. Think of all of the young girls whose lives you could influence by being an inspiration, even if all you do is accept yourself for who you are. I’m certain that if young girls had more positive role models, we would see less teen pregnancy & eating disorders. Girls need to know that others care about them; that we are listening to their needs. Instead, they are left with MTV and magazines that tell them that no matter how remarkable they are, society will not accept them until they mold themselves to look like celebrities.

So here’s my big, scary, awesome proposal: stop hating yourself.

You, whoever you are, with your understated beauty and womanly body, embrace yourself. More importantly, do the things that make you feel pretty. I’m crazy, I know. How can you possibly feel pretty when…? No, trust me. I wear dresses more than pants even when it’s cold outside. When I feel unattractive, I wear my prettiest dress with a pair of adorable shoes (with bows on the front, s’il vous plait), a little make up, and remind myself that the feeling that I have in my heart is far more important than being a size 2. The fact that I got two A’s on my midterms easily out shadows any loneliness that I feel about not being in a relationship.

I know this sounds hard to do. Eventually, we actually come to rely on that horrible voice in the back of our heads that tell us that we’ll never find anyone who’ll love us like we love them. Or maybe it says we look ugly when in fact, we look hot. Trust me, once you get used to loving yourself regardless of if you have a zit on the side of your face or your jeans are just a little snug this morning, you begin to love having some respect for yourself. You fall in love with a feeling instead of an ideal. Women are quick to tell men why we deserve respect, but some we can’t remember any of those reasons when we stand in front of the mirror. If we want respect, we have to give respect. Yes, to ourselves! If we want someone to love us, we must love ourselves.

You deserve so much more than low self-esteem and tears. You deserve to feel loved and beautiful, even when you aren’t having the best day. I need to remember this too. I’m still working on accepting who I am & what I look like, but I’ve realized that when I do the things that I love, it’s far easier for me to look in the mirror. Remember, you are not alone. Every girl has her issues. Every girl cries sometimes because she feels ugly. Every girl falls in love with someone that will not love her in return. I’ve seen some of the prettiest girls hate their appearances for no reason. The only way to feel better about the situation is not through starving yourself, but through taking care of you.

So wear those jeans that show off those mile long legs, or maybe that smock top that displays the fact that you are a woman with breasts (no, not those!) Walk like you look good, and you will! Remind yourself that you deserve it, regardless of what society may tell you.

***

Katie's Those Days list:

On “Those Days” you should: pop in a movie (I really recommend Lost in Translation and Annie Hall), eat something delicious like raw almonds or raisins, and relax. In the day time, wear your prettiest dress/skirt, put on a little makeup, spritz your favorite perfume, read a good book (I just finished The Virgin Suicides and I still can’t stop reading Jane Eyre), order something from your favorite coffee shop, maybe flirt with the cute barista named Tyler, and take a walk. Maybe you have a hobby like painting, maybe you should practice the piano because you have a lesson on Saturday. Doing something constructive will always help you feel as if you can have some control over your life. Invite your friend over to your dorm or apartment and have tea. Talk to them. If they’re a good friend, chances are you’re going to get a little emotional, which is good. Life is hard sometimes and you need someone to be honest with. Do something fun. Maybe discuss what you can do to improve your situation. Maybe you don’t like the brainstorm, maybe you just want to talk about what’s making life suck, which is okay. Talking can make the situation feel a little more manageable. When you’re done, take a walk together. Breathe in the fresh air. Don’t think about whoever or whatever is making you feel bad, just admire the trees and the birds singing. At night, you should read before you go to bed. Text the family member that you’re closest with and tell them that you love them. Love always makes people feel as if the world can be taken on. Eat your favorite food (mind is sashimi and Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups). Listen to a band who always makes you smile when they come on the radio. Feel better? Good! Do this as often as possible. Even if what makes you feel pretty is something like singing in the shower or enjoying vanilla frozen yogurt after dinner, revel in it, make it a part of your life!

Photos thanks to the uber talented Katharine Alaska, and none of them feature Katie.

A Homeless Man Called Me Names Today

2011-10-07T06:24:00.000-07:00

My hobbies & interests include reading, home décor, obsessing over small details, and being so, SO proud of the fact that I live in the North End.

A resident of this gentrifying neighbourhood for a little over a year now, I can call out anyone silly or snarky enough to tell me that my lovely little apartment home is in a “sketchy area” with a snide “Oh, you mean because it’s not the suburbs? Sorry we don’t have a Costco yet. And no, there is no room for that oversized flaming box of crap on wheels you call an SUV.”

Yea, I’m pretty much a bad person.

I hide my hurt with ethically sourced hot chocolate and reading blogs about how Detroit is going to get really trendy, just like Portland. I can relate guys! Everyone makes fun of my home too! We have so much in common! I tell myself that I'm progressive. Next weekend, I am going to campaign school. Today, I am wearing polka dot tights. Ou! Aren’t I so quirky and different?! Take that, boring apathetic high school classmates. While you’re having babies at an uncomfortably young age and drinking every weekend to assuage the fact that you hate the degree you’re taking, I am living next to the new trendiest restaurant in the city and walking through rows of beautiful, colourful houses and shops that have signs printed in Helvetica, before it was ironic. I’m just so cool.

It’s only recently that I have mapped out a walking route that takes me through North End neighbourhoods instead of down busy streets. I sacrifice an extra ten minutes of my morning, but it’s hardly a sacrifice when I see charming forty year old women in bright trench coats and rugged but beautiful people drinking coffee. I can tell that they have the pride in them too. We are here, and we are different. We are so different. We were here first. They probably think I’m pretty lame actually. I’m a newcomer. For the first part of my life, I lived with my parents in the suburbs. How gauche. Still, the insistence that our End is one of quirk and creativity is important to us. It’s part of our identity. We’re so different!

Until we see them.

Only one stretch of sidewalk on my entire forty minute walk makes me put my head down. My legs could easily take another route, but something in me can’t. You have a clear warning; as you approach, you see the alleyways in between are filled with broken bottles of booze and cheap umbrellas turned upside down by the wind. Suddenly, the shops that were boarded up with pages of the New York Times and The Walrus are actually perverse instead of eye catching. The first time I passed Those People, I shoved my hands deep into my pockets and left my headphones on, trying to force a smile that probably ended up looking quite sad. Recently, I have taken to saying good morning, making sure they don’t see the iPhone that’s playing me music that I paid money for. Nothing I do is right.

I’ve wrote about gentrification before, and I think about it all the time. It’s become a bit of a joke between Luke & I; shriek-whispering “Hipster!” every time we see someone fashionable at the grocery store. No conclusions I ever come to make me happy. Can I be part of this beautiful community without destroying it? Not if I can’t treat the people standing outside the Salvation Army like humans.

But how do humans even like to be treated? We talk a big game about being friendly in the Maritimes, but people don’t really smile at me on the street like in commercials. When I’m pleasant and chatty, I annoy some baristas, while if I’m distracted; I can look like a stone cold bitch. Truth be told, if I were to treat the homeless like I treated “anyone else,” I would fix my gaze in front of me and just keep walking. They don’t want my pity, but I can’t bring myself to do that around them anymore.

It’s been an awkward year for me too; there were weeks when juice or bread was just not doable. I can walk by knowing that I have been hungry as well, but it’s nowhere near the same. I could go to my parents at any time. I could beg them for money. I could try to take out a loan. Still, knowing the disappointment of putting buying food off for another day makes walking by even harder.

Today I said good morning as I walked by, and one guy, clearly on some kind of something, called me a slut. I’m not upset. I didn’t cry. The word does not matter, but why he chose it does. The feminist in me stood at attention while the human in me squirmed around as I heard the drugs in his voice. His hood was down so far on his face, I was surprised he could even identify me as a woman. I don’t want to see him ever again, but I need to know that he’s going back there every day to get something to make it half okay kind of. He wouldn’t recognize me anyways.

This weekend I will be on a boat dressed in finery. In the immaculate little town of Chester, I will help my father throw the ashes of my activist grandmother overboard in some symbolic gesture that now she is free. I will eat parmesan broccoli soup and wonder if, for all my grandmother’s noble deeds, she struggled to look at the people on the sidewalk with a hunger beyond the physical sense in the depths of their stomachs while she donated thousands to the theatre.

My tights don’t make me different. My hair doesn’t set me apart. When I raise the rent of the nieghbourhood with my desire to live somewhere special, I am just another person who is reveling in my perfect home while others have no roof. I am not part of my community; I attend select parties and gigs for those fortunate enough to have shelter that happen to be geographically close. It’s not about where you come from; it’s about what you do for where you are. I have done everything for the bright coloured houses and nothing for the sidewalks. At the end of the day, for all my vintage dresses and organic soap and political slogans, I am no different. Not different at all.

Request: What It's Like to Be

2011-10-05T07:52:00.000-07:00

I talk too much. I always have, and probably always will.

If you're still reading this, that means you might think that is a good thing, & I am grateful.

I am looking for people who would be interested in talking with me for my What It's Like to Be feature. In the past, I have had the honour of sharing the stories of suvirvors of hardship, of people with difficult decisions to make, of people with interesting jobs, and of people who didn't always feel like others "got" them.

Specifically, I am very interested in if you are someone who would like to talk about your experiences with the following things:

-Living with an intellectual disability

-Being a woman who identifies both as a feminist or a progressive and as Muslim

-Daily living in a rural area in any place in the world

-Working in a job that requires a lot of public speaking, aka guts, and how you do it

-Working a job in a language that is not your native tongue

-I always love to feature people who are political about something and do anything about it!

-Young people especially who organize their own activist groups or events

Of course, this is a very basic, very loose grocery list of what I think is very cool. I'd appreciate your help in passing it on, commenting on this post, or just tossing me an e-mail (see the page at the top.) This is an awesome opportunity for anyone involved in an organization to get the word out about what they do if they're willing to share their story, or just to get something off of your chest. Let's do it together?

Thank you!

Hey girl on the bus with lacerations all over your wrist,

2011-09-30T04:21:00.000-07:00

Do you want to come over? I live really close by this bus route, so after we chilled for a bit you could get back on the same route and go home a little later. Or you could never go home, if that’s why you’re drawing all over yourself with knives. I bet you have a place to go even if you don't know it. I bet I know of a place where you can stay if you really have nowhere to go. Or maybe home isn't the problem, and you can just head back, and everything will be a little better. I'll never know until I ask.

We can do anything you want! Anything, seriously! I've learned not to judge. You could almost say I took a course in understanding that pain is not something anyone should be ashamed of, but I don't think any school could possibly offer that with any real amount of heart. We could watch Roman Holiday and eat grilled cheese sandwiches, which always makes me feel like tomorrow will be a little better. Or maybe you find Audrey Hepburn annoying instead of charming, and maybe you're lactose intolerant. It doesn't really matter to me, because we could just sit on my couch and swap stories and drink tea (without milk?) My couch is really comfortable! Seriously. I read the Ikea catalogue and it says that they designed it keeping in mind that people like to sit on the arms and may sleep on it, so really, you could sit however you wanted. We could have a beer together! The liquor store is right up the street and we could walk together in the cold night air and each grab our favourite tall boy and vent as we cracked the tops off, spilling foam all over our knuckles. If you wanted to smoke a joint, you could do it on our deck. Our landlord doesn't like that, but if he saw, I'd explain to him and he would understand. I know it doesn't seem that way sometimes, but people usually do. Actually. Really. I promise. People usually understand.

That's not to say that people pretend that they understand. Understanding is scary, because it means you have told someone something that is so deep and dark and meaningful that you are searching for a hint of relatability in their eyes. People are not always ready to admit that they can connect with something like that. Sometimes they are mean, and sometimes they are kind. The worst is when they pretend to be apathetic and unmoved, but between you and I, I know they are aching inside. See? I have secrets to tell too. So how about that beer on my versatile seating coach?

Maybe you've tried to talk to a professional before, and maybe you haven't because you're scared that they will be that apathetic person. Maybe they gave you drugs. Maybe they gave you drugs for those drugs. Maybe the symptoms seemed worse than the disease, and maybe you couldn't afford even one pill. Isn't it sad that in such a great country so many people have a hard time waking up and facing the day? Isn't it confusing that the lack of a pharmacare program in Canada means that so many of the most intelligent people in the country simply cannot contribute to the society, to the economy, to the community, in the way that they would like? I hope I am not being too political, but some day when you have a little less on your plate (and I promise that day will come!) you should probably remember how you feel today, and write a letter to make something happen.

Because something has to happen.

Because you're on this bus with lacerations all over your wrist.

I get it. I really get it. And if I don't get it, someone else does, and I still care. I've been there too. I mean, maybe not there. Or maybe our heres and our theres are different. But I've been there! Everyone's been there at least once. My there happened when my brain started screaming at me so loud it might drip out of my ear and into a puddle on the floor. I was so preoccupied with some stresser that I cannot remember now. I remember feeling like I might die, or that I was already not living. There was no way a brain could beat so hard against my skull and I would just... survive? Of course, I did. I'm here, sitting across the aisle from you, so I did. There was also the time I thought that every spoonful of food I put into my body would make me blow up into a balloon and no one would ever love me because of it. My body did not feel like mine. My mind felt like an echo in an ugly old house. In myself, I had never felt so alone.

People do care. People care so much they light up the sky with millions of candles all over the planet just so the people who took themselves away from us can see how beautiful they really were down here. People care in a way they can never put into words, even if they really, really try. People care so much that they notice when a graceful girl with beautiful shiny hair slinks onto the bus with wounds all over her wrist, even if she tries to cover it up with bracelets and wristbands. If you don't really want to have a beer with me, maybe you're more of a martini person. I can mix a mean one! I even have this special shaker! I got it at a nice home decor store because I really do believe my life will involve throwing fabulous dinner parties. Isn't that a silly wish for a twenty one year old? So let me play hostess. Oh, and we can sit on my kitchen floor if you're so inclined. I have half of a baguette. It's a little hard, but it's still tasty. So why don't you come home with me?

I'm rambling because I'm trying to be casual. I'm hoping this is a meaningful conversation, not an embarrasing penalty. I hope you think I'm funny, or a little kooky, or anything but creepy. I hope you will come with me. Of course, this is all in my head. I can't say a single thing. I'm overanalysing this situation across from you, and you will never know I exist. I can't tell you what I'm thinking, because then I'm scary or weird. You might roll your eyes. You might tell the bus driver to kick me off. You might text your friends. Omg! What a random weirdo. Whatever. Awwwkwarrrd.

What's so creepy about trying to save someone's life?

I wish that there was an easy way to tell you how much the idea of someone who has to hurt themselves to feel something means to me. I have fallen in love with your spirit, because I am human, and you are human, and I feel your pain. I can't say a word, so I write many here. Maybe you'll see this some day and know. Maybe one of your friends will post this on some social media website you check, and you will remember a fidgetty redhead who's always staring at you. Or maybe you'll never know. Ever. Which is a shame, because I know so much and so little about you. I hope you are okay. I hope I see you again and your wounds have healed. I hope I see you again and your spirit has mended a little too. Even if we never know each other, maybe we have created a bond. Me writing this. You maybe reading this. We are connecting. For minutes we are both less alone. We are creating something beautiful with our minds, and we are for one minute taking some of the complication out of this scary modern world. We are changing each other's lives.

So... how about that beer?

Inspired by Luke, my immensely loved boyfriend, who notices lacerations on wrists.

http://www.suicideprevention.ca/ to help & http://www.twloha.com/ for help

What it's like to be living in New Orleans after The Storm

2011-09-27T07:31:00.000-07:00

There are many ways in which Alli differs from you. An enthusiastic & charming red head, she cheers on progressive ecological policies and the New Orleans Saints with the same delighted fervor. However, her unusual way of measuring time is more typical than you might think.

“Talk to someone from down here and I can guarantee they will begin a story by saying, ‘So this happened Before Katrina/After Katrina... B.K. and A.K.—learn it, live it, love it!’ she explains, with both gravity and lightheartedness. “Another acceptable story timetable is Before the Storm and After the Storm. The Storm. You know which one I’m talking about!”

Survivor doesn’t even begin to describe the mentality that Alli and those around her had to adopt. In 2005, New Orleans was hit by Hurricane Katrina, one of the five deadliest hurricanes in the history of the United States. As if the devastation of losing homes and loved ones wasn’t enough, the people of New Orleans, affectionately called NOLA, were also subjected to the kind of inappropriateness that caused the Federal Emergency Management Agency (FEMA) Michael Brown to resign. Although so much tragedy made the news at the time, and eventually many questions were asked about government responses, rebuilding New Orleans has almost disappeared from the news although challenges continue.

Being able to communicate with Alli is a bit like watching a big theatre rendition of the storm. Her rhetoric is honest and sincere, almost sounding like the narration of a movie screen heroine you want to be best friends with. She cannot say one thing without accompanying it with a few facts about Nola. Despite the difficulties she and so many others have endured, she starts by insisting “I was one of the lucky ones.” You can only sit back and think that no, you are, for being able to hear what she has to say.

***

My family and I evacuated before the storm. I was 15 years old at the time. We were originally planned to go to Arkansas to meet up with friends, but it took a good 10 hours just to get to Jackson, MS—a trip that usually only takes 3 hours. We had my two cats and my beta fish, so traveling was getting tricky. Watching one of your cats sink lower down in the stacked up cargo area of your Jeep is only cute for so long. We stopped at a rest stop in Jackson and booked the last hotel room at a Holiday Inn. The outer bands of Katrina reached to Jackson and the hotel’s electricity went out; everyone was locked out of their rooms because the key swiper went down. All the guests stayed in the lobby with a gourmet meal of crackers for dinner. The time in the lobby felt normal—sure we were with people we’ve literally never talked to before, but my sister and I annoyed each other, I spotted a cute boy, I got bored. Time passed.

The next day, we got electricity in the hotel. With that came both a dreaded and revered item: television. News. Images of Katrina flashed before us.

One woman shrieked, “Oh my God, that’s my house, that’s my neighborhood!”

Everything was underwater.

She broke down crying.

I was hopeful the government would be of assistance. The hope was dashed when the levee breaches happened. We trusted them to protect us, yet the ARMY Corp of Engineers couldn’t do that. The Corp claimed they didn’t have prior knowledge the levees were in danger of breaching, but they put their own study in 1986 that said separations in the I-Wall were possible. 1986. They clearly knew what the consequences of the storm could be. I was flummoxed that federal government was not prepared, that government officials were playing the blame game. Step up when your residents need you most. Don’t cower when there’s a problem; we elected y’all to protect us, so do what you’ve sworn you’ll do. What gave me back hope was residents doing their own rescue missions, people coming in from all over to lend a hand, charities and international countries donating to help out. They were doing what the local and federal government was scared of.

New Orleans is used to political corruptness (Hey Bill Jefferson! Nice stack of food containers in there, I heard that helps keep laundered money fresher, too!), but for an organization that is literally Federal Emergency Management Agency, they were woefully, embarrassingly unprepared. How could they not manage the aftermath? You prepare for the worst and pray for the best, not the other way around!

...I guess they didn’t get that memo.

It’s so sobering seeing ones you love not getting proper help because of failure in the emergency preparedness. When FEMA finally did help out, they distributed trailers that contained formaldehyde. This means not only did recipients not have a place to live, but they also had to inhale cancer-causing carcinogens! Pitiful all over.

The journalist, who in my opinion did the greatest job, is definitely Anderson Cooper. Journalists aren’t supposed to let the stories take them over, but his honest portrayal of emotions showed the country, “This is real.” You could see this wasn’t just another piece to cover to get new viewers. It wasn’t sensationalized. He honestly wanted all of the answers for the citizens when he let loose on Mary Landrieu, who thanked Bush for his “Great response.”

Anderson Cooper responded, “I got to tell you. There are a lot of people here who are very upset, and very angry, and very frustrated. And when they hear politicians . . . thanking one another, it just, you know, it kind of cuts them the wrong way right now. Because literally there was a body on the streets of this town yesterday being eaten by rats, because this woman had been laying in the street for 48 hours. And there’s not enough facilities to take her up. Do you get the anger that is out here?

Despite all that has happened, New Orleans pride is something real. We may be a small-big city, but did you know our WWII Museum is the only museum that addresses all of the D-Days? We were gifted portions of Hitler’s Atlantic Wall! During Mardi Gras season there can be the biggest mess of beads and trash in the street at the end of the night, but you wake up in the morning and it’s like house elves paid us a visit because everything is spotless. Seriously. There’s also always something going on —jazz concert with Rebirth Brass Band, restaurants opening, crazy good small businesses being opened, and Saints games (Who Dat, y’all!). We're going to progress in the art scene, the restaurant scene, the medicine scene —we have really awesome hospital and animal research down here, which many people don’t realize. So come down here! Eat ‘til you swear you’ve had enough to eat to last ‘til next year and then eat some more. Get a hurricane —the drink, thank you very much— at Pat O’s & then walk out with your drink because NOLA doesn’t have an open container law. (It works. Honestly!) Just please, for the love of God, do not flash yourself on Bourbon St. It’s a bulls eye that you’re a tourist.

In the future, I see New Orleans thriving even more than we already are. The New Orleans that is now is not what you saw on TV 6 years ago. There’s still work to be done, but there always will be. Whether it’s now or 5 years down the line, we’ll still have Southern hospitality. New Orleans has been called the New York City of the South, but I think we’re our own city. No matter how many times this has been said, it will always be true: you can’t capture the atmosphere of New Orleans anywhere but here.

Some notes From Alli:

-Fleurty Girl is an amazing local store that has really taken off. Lauren Thom, owner of the store, has done so many amazing things for the city. She heard about a man in Tremé who was selling t-shirts with “I Heart Tremé” to try and raise enough money for rebuilding his house. She took over production and donated 100% of the sales so he could rebuild his house.

-The wetlands are being destroyed at such a fast rate and it's a danger to coastal cities, coastal wildlife, and the ecology system as a whole. They are a natural barrier to help slow down hurricanes before they approach us; if the wetlands devolve into nothing, we're pretty much messed up for good. Donate your (natural, undecorated) Christmas trees once you're through with them. It gets deposited in the wetlands to help regrow them.

& there's always something else... KK Projects, which are really visually striking / Flakes, which is set in NOLA before the storm, is pretty charming & just what you'd want from a Zooey Deschanel movie / Jazz is narrated by Ken Burns. I'm one episode in, and it is so comprehensive but always interesting.

All images are from Alli, which was very appreciated.

What It’s Like to Be… is a series of interviews with people, especially young women, who have stories to tell about, well, being them! From a woman who’s had an abortion to growing up with two mothers to experiencing dementia, I am open minded about who I interview. If you would like to tell your story, please email me at alwaysalwayssomething (at) gmail (dot) com so we can start to talk!

Why I'm Upset

2011-09-22T07:10:00.000-07:00

There's something ingrained in you at a very young age that everything will always be okay in The End. The End, The End, is a magically denouement in books where nothing happens to the character after, but is somehow not always death. Even the critical or existential novels lavish in The End for the sake of a conslusion. In The Stranger, death is accepted. In The Great Gatsby, Nick decides he can go elsewhere and find better people. There is a conclusion. There is a happy ending, even if there is no happiness.

This is why I really thought that Troy Davis would not be put to death last night.

An innocent man is innocent, so why would they kill him? In every movie, some firecracker lawyer cuts in through the bullshit bureaucracy and yells a passionate speech about seeing people, seeing people, that brings everyone to their feet with applause. Last night, millions of people on the Internet filled that role, and no one budged. When I came to work this morning, only one or two people had heard what happened. They asked me if I was an American, as if what happens elsewhere in the world has no effect on anyone, as if we have to stay within our arbitrary political bubbles that are called countries.

I'm not as sad that Troy Davis was put to death as I am because I do not think anything will change. Another topic will trend on Twitter, and some other political issue will happen in the news. People make snide remarks about Casey Anthony deserving the chair, not him, and I burn inside screaming YOU ARE WHAT'S WRONG. As long as the death penalty exists anywhere, innocent people will die. Where something is permitted, there is room to do it wrong. There is no 100% success rate, if you can even look at murder as a success.

So prove me wrong, whoever you are. Start a movement, young Americans. I will help you, but right now, my heart is in protecting the liberties that make my country mine. Ensure that next time, no one has to sweep in at the last minute and convince a naive girl refreshing the Huffington Post every second that there is still good in the world. It was just as wrong when he was sentenced as it is when he was killed; one was just more talked about than the other.

Stop tolerating when people say "He just feels guilty" about a black man; you know what they mean. Stop assuming that The End is glorious; all the fairy tales were written, not lived. Stop expecting someone else to come and give that impassioned speech to make it all okay. If there is one thing I have learned from this horrendous act, it is that it is not about what's right as much as what's legal.

As long as this is true, we have all failed.

Stop accepting that.

Update: I forgot to credit this compelling picture. Thank you, and many apologies.

And We'll Change the World: Rest in Peace, Jack Layton

2011-08-23T05:29:00.000-07:00

The morning that Jack Layton passed away, I had people calling me, texting me, and sending me messages to say that they were sorry for my loss. I laughed, and realized how much the New Democrats have become a part of my life; it is true that Mr. Layton seemed more to me like a kindly grandfather who stood up for his family than an actual politician. Jack Layton united a country; on May 2nd, Quebec cheered with the rest of the country as the NDP replaced the Liberals and the Bloc as Canada's opposition. Yesterday, we all wept together as a nation to have lost such a charismatic leader.

As I took Jack's wrinkled hand in mine, my mind went blank. I did not know what to say. His body was shaking from having just delivered a lost letter to democracy, but his grip was firm. I looked up at him, eyes wide, mouth open. No words came out.

"Thank you for fighting with me," he winked, realizing that I had no greater compliment than to, for once, shut up. "I'm so flattered you're here."

The cameras flashed, and he smiled. I ogled with shining eyes.

When his death truly hit me, I felt like something greater had died. First my grandmother, then what my grandmother stood for? The good fight had never seemed to have so few soldiers.

Luke listened as I wept.

"This isn't over," he promised. "Don’t let them tell you it can’t be done. is the Courage my friends, 'tis not too late to build a better world. of this generation."

I nodded solemnly, but he was right. I fought off a grin. Moses never made it to the promise land, right?

Besides, nothing cheers me up like a good Tommy Douglas reference.

Jack Layton's inspirational & beautiful final letter to the Canadians.

I Was Here.

2011-08-19T06:21:00.000-07:00

This is not urban art.

But this is, see?

Someone was here is displayed almost everywhere. Scratched into school desks, written in side walk pavement, and of course, spray painted on walls. Walking by any side of a building in a city can become an epic novel of people who were here, of racial epitaphs, and of someone loving someone at some point, and it was definitely "4ever!" because it was in a heart.

"NOva Scotia" is a bit of a running joke where I am from. Living in its biggest city, Halifax, I trick myself into thinking we are soooo progressive and Montreal & Toronto & Vancouver just need to stop being so mean to us, okay?! Being small is an image Halifax both loves and hates; we're not like those big city folk! We're friendly! But everywhere has a Starbucks now and supporting independent book stores sometimes seems to take its place over helping the homeless.We insist that we are more than just a bunch of drunks in kilts while proudly wearing oversized plaid shirts. Being both a university city and a government one is an interesting experience; we would have little economy without the big concrete buildings of bureaucracy but having a yearly shipment of Toronto's trendiest makes us feel very, very urban. We have gentrification and we have people who have spent more of their lives on boats than on land. We have organic fair trade gluten free and we have down home stew from Momma. We have impressive social justice and we have crippling racism. On good days, we are a beautiful juxtaposition. On bad days, we are a clash.

Urban art is not graffiti.

In school, I was able to help an urban art initiative. It's silly, but I felt like I was doing my grandmother's work in promoting art that would proudly be display at the Art Gallery of Nova Scotia. Almost every other major city has come to celebrate urban art and embrace it. Of course, we're lagging behind a little bit.

"Urban art is too much like graffiti!"

Urban art will not teach your child to write "Fuck you" on a wall. That's not art; that's spare time and a can of spray paint. To compare the two is insulting. To dismiss pieces that take time, effort, and talent as scribbling this city doesn't want, doesn't need, is offensive. Ignoring urban art does not make it go away; if we pretend it's not real art, not good art, then it will never end up in a gallery! And then where will it go? Do you think everyone will drop their cans and surrender? The more something is valued and ends up on gallery walls, the less it will end up on walls of a factory. Graffiti is a crime; urban art is a style. Graffiti can be pretty or offensive, but it is something on a wall that the owner of the wall does not want. Urban art is not like that; urban art is bright, vibrant, and certainly not illegal.

I sigh and wait and I don't hold my breath. Jazz was once considered the work of the devil, and now Halifax has an annual jazz festival. Progress takes time, and I cannot wait until people see what side of history they fall on. I know they will not succeed.

But it's not about whether they succeed, because I don't have time for this crap. I'm growing up. I'm deciding where I want to go, who I want to be. I have so much to give for the community I will one day call home. I am a student with an excellent resume, but I know that there are hundreds of others smarter, better, and more talented than I. If I'm not ready to wait for my city to stop being against everything that young people are doing, can we really expect anyone else to stick around? When will we accept urban art? Will it be when you need an ID to buy a can or spray paint, or when spoiled rich children go to school in Paris or Barcelona to learn how to do it?

I will not pretend that urban art and graffiti have nothing in common. I will not pretend I didn't expect this outcry. Urban art is a style, graffiti is a crime. This means that sometimes urban art is graffiti. I'm not going to pretend that I see no connection whatsoever. But let's think about what my beautiful city is saying.

We are bringing in the guns to shoot at paint brushes.

We are banning it instead of teaching it to be constructive.

We are devaluing a form of expression, which is what inspired graffiti in the first place.

We are making art a crime, instead of seeing something good coming from something bad.

"Urban art is graffiti and it's illegal and there's nothing beautiful about that ever ever ever! Right?..."

....Right?

.........Right?

........................Right?!

It's our failing fault those are on the streets, and not on a canvas on our wall.

Well, speak for yourself, because my walls will be beautiful.

And yours could be too.