I Own Noobs

I sometimes complain that Calgary has no subcultures, no real diversity to speak of. Tonight I was proven wrong. My brother and I went to see the 12th episode ofPure Pwnage, an internet show that has taken (a certain demographic) by storm. We showed up, with pre-purchased tickets thanks to my brother, and there was already a huge line up. The line up consisted mostly of teenaged boys carrying original Nintendo guns and sporting trench coats. They were selling merchandise at the theatre and the crowd was going crazy! Before the show started they had the characters from the show (Pure Pwnage is filmed in Toronto but most of the cast is from Calgary) come out and they brought a bunch of fans to the front to do random things like, oh, I don’t know-spout off the entire dialogue from episode three. These fans were extremely devoted and apparently all had very good memories. Or no life. At one point during the evening I went to the bathroom and for the first time in my movie-going life I walked past the long lineup for the guys bathroom and right into an empty ladies room. Awesome.

It was a good night. The show was great and I got a glimpse into another world. A world where it is okay to wear videogame t-shirts and tight jeans, where it’s normal to pull out your DS at slow points in the film and where most people only knew each other by their Warcraft alias. I felt like I had ventured beyond the borders of Cowtown and I enjoyed the trip.

Death Insurance

There is nothing like running into your own mortality on a Wednesday afternoon. Today Brian and I went to buy life insurance. How very mature and responsible of us. Fortunately, because of Brian we are both eligible for Canadian Bar Association coverage which is very affordable. We each got enough coverage to make sure that if one of us died the other could pay for a funeral, move if necessary and maybe go on a nice trip to Mexico or something. Or if so inclined, bury the other person in the backyard free of charge, sell the house and move to Europe. Whatever helps with the grief.

Same Same Same Same Same Same

Things have been sort of crappy lately. I don't know whether I am going through some kind of quarter life crisis of if I'm just getting older but I've felt so subdued. I feel a little trapped and a little disappointed. I have a good life - I love my job, I have a husband who I love and who I love back, I have a nice house and a good family. I'm active and although I don't have many friends who live nearby I do have a handful and I certainly have some wonderful long distance friends. And all I can seem to think is, "Is this it? Is this my life?"

I'll be the first to admit that for most of my life I carried some very grand ideas of how my life would look. A famous writer, living on the intellectual cutting edge and inspiring the masses to challenge the status quo, cool. Never did I imagine a quiet, normal, blissful existence.

I find myself feeling suffocated by the sameness of it all. I live in a white-bred city where homogeneity runs rampant. I have a terrible case of the travel bug and I don't have the finances to cure it. My weekdays, from week to week, look frighteningly similar to one another. I need something, but I don't know what.

I've considered taking a vacation alone (since Brian cannot possible give up the time) but know that once again, I have too much debt to start doing that. And besides, I would prefer to travel with someone. I am trying to make new friends by participating in all sorts of activities. I meet people that I like but they already seem to have a large group of their own friends and whatever particular friend niche I might occupy, has already been filled. I run like mad to make myself feel good. I do ballet and I try to be happy...and sometimes it works.

I feel guilty for feeling this way sometimes because I know that the world is full of people who would love to have my life. The warmth, the love and the possibilities. The security.

How to I rectify the ideas, however unrealistic, with the reality? How do I bring myself to accept all that is good in my life while setting out to change what isn't? How do I make myself happy without making myself sick?

Flammable but fitted...

Sure, this week has seen a nuclear test in North Korea, the loss of Habeus Corpus rights in the U and the Canadian government thumbing their collective noses at the developing world's health by refusing to support the addition of asbestos to the Rotterdam list but I've got something a little more pressing to consider.

Pantyhose.

Now, I work at an office that requires business wear and I like that. What I don't like is wearing pantyhose with waists so high that my options are to roll them down so it looks like I have a sleeping wiener dog wrapped around my waist or to tug them up so high that they actually tuck up into my bra. Pictures that for a second...exactly. Not pretty and I can assure you, definitely not comfortable. If I buy them one size shorter the crotch hangs so low that I waddle when I walk, K-Fed style. So, last week when I saw a par of low rise pantyhose I naturally grabbed them, boxed out and defended the stock from any other long-crotched ladies who might dive into my stash.

This morning I got dressed and opened up the package, narely breathing with all the possibility that existed in those flaccid nylon tubes. And? They fit like a glove. The crotch is exactly where it should be. My bra contains only what it should. All is right with the world.

Humility in a Barbie Bicycle Helmet...and Skates

I had my first Special Olympics figure skating practice today and it went really well. Well as in I didn't fall on my ass. Some of the athletes are very good and some of them are just learning to skate. I've managed to rope Brian into coaching Special Olympics as well so he starts basketball tomorrow night. I was feeling pretty lousy before I went to practice and of course, like always, Special Olympics took care of that. I left feeling uplifted and excited for the rest of the season. The thing about Special Olympics is that I spend a lot of time laughing. Not at the athletes but with them...they are so good at laughing and they never do it with any ill intent. They just genuinely find themselves funny and I am more able to laugh at myself when I'm with them. And sometimes, just sometimes, I laugh at them too...I'm only human.

Precious Visit

On Thursday we went to see Alexander McCall Smith do a reading. We have both been reading his books for the last year or so and really enjoy them. He writes a lot about Botswana, a place we have visited and are familiar with. There are so many shared interests and history between myself and Smith that I feel a sense of kinship with him. He is from Scotland (and now lives in Edinburgh) and grew up in Africa, much like my mother. He studied law (as does my husband), writes from a woman's perspective (I am a woman...okay, I'm reaching with that one) and writes children's books. To top it off, he did his reading at KNOX United Church. Weird, huh?

So I was happy - I got to hear McCall Smith and better yet I got to hear him talking to Eleanor Wachtel as the reading will be featured on CBC's Writers and Company. Life is good.

Heart

Do you remember Jump Rope for Heart? I remember when I was young we used to do it every year and every year I loved it. The t-shirt, the super cool knee-high athletic socks (which eventually were used to launch stinkbombs into the boys change room - now why couldn't I enter that in the science fair?) and those beaded-skipping ropes like muticoloured knuckle-bones nipping at your legs every time you stopped to take a breather.

Today we went to a charter school (just like a private school except it's publicly funded) for a Jump program launch. The school focuses on athletics, academics and arts...sort of like what regular schools used to focus on. The Jump program is celebrating its (wait for it...this is going to make you feel old...) 25th anniversary this year. The kids did a skipping demo and presented the Heart and Stroke Foundation with a cheque for $40,000. Wow.

The kids were really happy and excited about raising so much money. They were proud of themselves and their teacher and weren't the least bit afraid of talking to the reporters and camera men who covered the event.

Which made me wonder, at what point exactly does everything change? At what point do people get annoyed of not-for-profits asking for money? When do we become so self-aware that we would rather stay quiet than risk saying the wrong thing? When does it stop being "cool" to care? At what point in our lives did we stop skipping?

Me and the Archbishop

I'm a ballerina! Okay, so not exactly but last night was my second ballet class and I have to say that even I noticed an improvement in my pirouette. I am having such a blast and since I have never taken ballet before (as a young girl I could never have withstood the repetitiveness, the pinkness of it all and of course - the rules) but I thought I would give it a try and I'm glad. I have little pink shoes and the teacher is really great and I have sore muscles where I didn't know I even had muscles.

Live Show

Last night we went to see Blue October - it was an awesome show. Justin Furstenfeld was one of the most theatrical and engaging performers I have ever watched. Every song that came on was better than the one before it and I know this must be true because I was completely sober.

In sort of related news, my best friend's band, Keating, has just released their second album. Take a listen and if you like it, request the single "Much to Say"...most radio stations have it.

Jesus Camp

Despite a good seven hours of sleep I still feel as creeped out and edgy as I did last night. I saw the scariest movie I have ever seen and I think it might take some time to get over this one. The Calgary International Film Festival is on right now and so of course there are lots of great movies playing with lots of neat, funky, and mostly liberal vegetarian people watching them. I had been wanting to see Jesus Camp since I first heard about it and I wasn't disappointed. I can't even begin to explain how frightening this movie is. It's all about the far (far, far, far) right evangelical movement in the U.S. and how they are quite literally training soldiers to lay down their lives for Jesus...except that these soldiers are under the age of ten. The movie profiles several children who have been indoctrinated into the fundamentalist Christian right. The main preacher in the film is quite proud and willing to use the term "indoctrinate" and has no issues whatsoever with how she or her ministry is portrayed in the film. Abortion, Satan, Harry Potter being put to death, speaking in tongues, convulsions, rebirths, repentance, screaming, attacks on global warning, evolution and democracy were all featured and culminated in a prayer session over a cardboard cut out of the celestially appointed George W. Bush. These kids were like little robots and were vocally and proudly calling themselves soldiers of God who would lay down their lives for Christ. What stunned me was how anyone could miss the parallels between this and fundamentalist Islam but, as the preacher herself said when asked about the similarity, "Yah, but excuse me, WE have the truth."

It's easy to dismiss these radicals as just that - a fringe group. Mostly uneducated and of low socio-economic status they are not the most intellectually impressive group. But they are large and they are growing. 75% of the children home-schooled in America are evangelicals. They are being taught that evolution is wrong, that global warming doesn't exist and that their country is under attack from the left. The "us versus them" mentality has reached new heights when the world is described as having "two types of people - those who love Jesus and those who don't."

I hope everyone gets a chance to see this movie. I think we need to be aware of what is out there and the influence this group has. One of their greatest preachers meets with the President and his advisors every Monday. As a voting block they outnumber all others. They are passionate, ignorant and determined. They have nothing to lose because they truly believe the world will end soon and they will be here for the rapture. And most importantly, they are self professed soldiers for all the things they believe in and anything that stands against them is a product of the Devil. They want America back.

I left the theatre feeling sad for the children because they are being subjected to what, in my mind anyway, amounts to psychological abuse. Children of six, seven, eight years old, bawling hysterically because they believe the Devil is tempting them and that their family is under siege. Falling to their knees begging for grace for all the sins they have committed and praying to be washed in Jesus' blood. Not being allowed to have any fun because everything they do must be for the glory of God. I also left feeling afraid. Afraid because I know how much influence these people have in America and how much influence America has on the world stage. Mostly I was afraid because if this continues, I don't see any possibility for peaceful coexistence either within America or on this planet. I left feeling a bit hopeless and unsure of what, if anything, I can do to stop it.

The Big Time...

Brian is back into the swing of things at school and was recently given his first case for the year:

So, this guy picks up a prostitute (for a philosophical discussion he maintains) and asks her to come back to his place. She refuses, saying that it isn't safe. He refuses to pay her and she insists on $40 for her time. Instead, he steals her purse and drives away. She goes to her pimp and she hunts down the John in his trailer court. Pimp beats the shit out of him (allegedly of course) and throws something through the trailer window. John sues pimp (that's right...apparently he's horny, deep and stupid). In comes the lawyer...

My husband is a pimp defender.

Bad Bad Blogger...

Vacation to the Okanagan wasn't all I had hoped it would be. Of course I loved spending time with Bri (which after all, was the point of the trip) but I made the fatal mistake of trying to recapture childhood memories. The waterslides in Penticton aren't really cool...they're scary looking. And Ogo Pogo isn't a giant dragon you can climb all over - he's a plastic toy about 4 feet tall. We had planned on stopping by Flinstone Park because really, who didn't love that as a child? It doesn't exist anymore. I kept telling Brian that all I wanted to do was jump in the lake as soon as we arrived. So, after coughing up $40 for a campsite (which doubled our trip budget on the spot) we ran into the water. As we stood there in the chest-deep lake we looked at each other and I realized, with painful clarity that the water was wet and cold and that I am nearly 30.

We stayed in Kelowna for a few days and actually has a pretty good time. We went on a great tour of the Mission Hill vineyards and winery and played mini-golf. We headed to Osoyoos for three days but ended up bailing a few hours after we arrived. The campsite we were booked into was essentially a squatter's camp and Osoyoos (my apologies to anyone who is from there) is weird. It was creepy and like much of the Okanagan had a disproportionate number of trailer parks. The entire region looked to me as though a lot of people had moved there with a dream and then run out of money before they could put siding on their home or tow the truck to the local garage. And that's where they've stayed...along with their truck.

We headed into the States (Washington, across Idaho and into Montana) which of course was an adventure. I got to listen to my fill of Jesus radio, which for some reason I absolutely love. My favourite quote? "If God is your co-pilot, you better believe that it's time to swap seats!" Pure gold. We ate at a Denny's where I was forced to order from the Senior's Menu because all the stuff from the regular menu came with a bucket of hashbrowns and your weight in pancakes. And if you ordered pancakes? Yup, they came with a side of pancakes.

So, in ten days we managed to cover two provinces, three states, every political and current event worth discussing, a few arguments, some great bumper stickers ("Orgasm Donor")and a few hours of tax-free shopping in the great state of Montana We also learned many lessons for our next trip - mainly that next time we should take our ten day budget and use it over three days.

Summer Hedonism

You thought that last week has been bad? Prepare for far worse...I'm going camping for ten days...with no access to the computer. So no blogging and no emails. There are quite a few emails that need to be written and blog comments to be posted so I've decided to take the lazy man's generic Christmas letter to a whole new level:

Justin: You're home! I can't believe it has been more than two years. Still reading your blog and still loving it - no worries. Any plans to come visit this year or will we have to wait?

Vernelle: He's home! He's home! Hope you're enjoying every minute of it.

Linda: Congrats on Hofstra...it sounds like you're enjoying law school already. I'm interested to see how it develops and how it differs from hubby's experience here.

Stephen: When are you ever going to learn? Either bulk up our troops with foreign involvement or get out of Afghanistan. How many times have we had this discussion...they're dying over there!

Craig & Ian: I love you and I hope to see you soon.

Greg: If you're reading this...get back to work! :-)

Matt: Got your email and loved it. I wasn't trying to goad you into a debate, just thought you might miss the opportunity to have those types of conversations. Point well taken.

Bobbi: Where are you? I miss my lovely lady friend...

I think that's it for now...please don't be offended if you weren't mentioned. In fact, be relieved, be very relieved.

Off to the Okanagan to gorge myself on fruit, wine and skinny dipping.

Please watch this video...I don't know what I'm in awe of more, how articulate she is, what a wonderful feminist and atheist she is or how much I agree with what she has to say.

I'm home today with a wasp sting. I can't put any weight on my swollen stump of a foot. I hate that wasp.

Pardon me, Excuse me...leper coming through...

On Saturday we went to the Korean Festival here in Calgary. We braved the rain and the possibility that we might feel like unwanted foreign invaders all for a taste of galbi and dukbogi. Now, dukbogi is a street food and not one of the Korean foods I ever thought I would encounter again, but we relished every chewy cabbage-covered bite of it.

Koreans use the word waygook to describe, well, everyone who isn't Korean. American soldiers are waygooks, so are white people, and Chinese and Japanese and probably those of Korean descent who live in other countries. The Korean ability to categorize others so easily is a perfect example of their xenophobic and insular approach to the world. Here's a better example: they were still calling us waygooks here in Calgary! The festival, advertised in English, was obviously geared for Koreans since the entire festival was in Korean (and Chinese for some reason) and the signs were in hangul. This was another thing we encountered a lot of in Korea...a map or a pamphlet with an English title or introduction and then nothing else. I can't tell you how many times we picked up an English booklet only to find the inside entirely in Korean. What a pump-fake. Anyway, we got such a kick out of the fact that they were still referring to us as "foreigners" in our home country...I guess it's all a matter of perspective and some people's perspectives never change.

Bathroom Before and After

Some Before and After Shots...

The living room when we first looked at the house...not our furniture...



During...



When we were finished. New floors, new colours, new baseboards...

Heads in the Clouds

The idea of an after life has got to be the most manipulative and powerful concept ever invented by mankind. It has made poor people complacent about their status in life by promising them eternal rewards. The meek are told that they will one day inherit the earth. It's untestable promises have kept slaves in bondage in Jerusalem, in Africa, the Asias, in the Americas and across countless generations. The fear of punishment after death has led to the denial of sexual desire, repression of science, intelligence, progress and intellectual debate. It has lauded obedience above reason and mildness over justice. It has given power to those who don't deserve it and can't handle it and made sacrifices of the week, impoverished and uneducated. It has made sinners out of babies who weren't splashed with water soon enough after birth. Behind its trail it has left a wake of complacency, acceptance, fear and abuse. And today it creates an atmosphere where blowing people to smithereens is okay because you will be rewarded with virgins and martyred in the name of God. It has allowed the infestation of incivility to fester and become more than acceptable, it has mutated into righteousness. Christians can rest easy because gays will reside in Hell and perverted old men can have sex with altar boys because they yield the promise of eternal salvation as easily as they do their dicks.

What would this world look like if the concept of eternal life had never been? How would we act if we knew this is all we had...no reward and no punishment, just the direct results of our actions. If personal accountability dictated how we treated others as opposed to their skin colour, religion or status? What if someone asked us to blow up a plane and we knew that if we did that it would be the end. No virgins, no respect, no reward - just death.

How much have we lost by allowing our humanity to reside in the clouds rather than on the earth?

Shirts and Skins

I spent Monday and Tuesday out in Banff at the Telus Skins Golf Game. I was working with Making the Connection (which Heart & Stroke is a part of) and got the chance to meet a bunch of famous golfers...who I didn't actually know or recognize. I knew who Jack Nicklaus was, but only because I used to see him in the Sears catalogue as a young girl. There was also Sergio Garcia, John Daly, Greg Norman and Stephen Ames. it was nice to be treated like royalty and as VIP's we had access to all the hospitality tents etc. It was fun and I really enjoyed meeting Pat Quinn - what a nice guy. More than that I enjoyed getting paid to hang out in Banff with famous people...even if I didn't know they were famous.