orange is the new black

by piper kerman

i picked up this gem on a lazy sunday morning
starbucks in one hand
a stack of memoirs in the other
and it was read
cover to cover
in the mountains.

even surrounded by all that glorious scenery
i couldn't put it down.
when i finally had to call it quits
i had 10 pages left
and i was damned if i was going to leave it at that

at approximately 11 pm, i had my flashlight
and i finished that baby in the tent.

i wondered
once i finished reading
if it was odd that i was jealous.

kerman was gifted - in a weird kind of way.
through her actions and the repercussions 11 years later (13 mos in jail)
she was able to connect with so many women
and hear so many diverse stories.

i couldn't help but become captivated with all of her prison mates.
they each had such wonderful - sometimes painfully sad -
stories that brought them together.

i also couldn't help but applaud kerman's brutal honesty.
she knew she had white privilege.
she knew guards were more likely to listen to her due to her skin colour.
she was aware.
and she was not afraid to mention it.
bravo.

she was also not afraid to critique
programs created for female inmates.
these programs are meant to help women
find housing, employment and reconnect with the outside world.

sadly, some of these inmates leave
and have nowhere to go.
and they depend wholeheartedly on these programs and seminars
that, in kerman's (and my) opinion, fall short.

it is irrelevant to discuss the general economy
if you do not know where to find these jobs in the first place.

another subtle critique was the care and consideration for pregnant inmates.
i found it really touching that several inmates
joined forces to help along an inmate in labour.

kerman was also willing to critique herself
and admit that her offense
(drug smuggling)
was the reason so many of her prison mates
suffered.
she realized that she was an enabler
through her actions that, 11 years earlier, seemed so minuscule.

little actions, big reactions.

in a world where we are constantly separating each other
by race, class, gender, etc etc.
this seems like the one institution where none of that really mattered.
crimes are committed by all sorts of people
and during this time of seclusion from friends and family,
kerman made bonds with women from all over social map.


so
curl up with a cup of tea
and a cozy blanket as fall rolls in
and read this book.

you will not be disappointed.

e and b do bc (again)

here i am
in the flat prairies

terribly missing the mountains of bc

the thing is

i love bc
i love the fresh air
the rivers
the clear lake water
the wild life
the endless options
the mountain sun
all the little critters

i just love it.

everytime i leave
i take one last look at the mountains
and let out a sad "good bye mountains!"

i still seriously contemplate
packing up and moving to nelson
learning how to metal smith
and (maybe) having some sort of relaxed career.

one day.

for now..

we have pictures.




we were lucky enough to be camped right close to this scene



and here we have us some garys ( grouses ). a particular one that was hanging around our site was named gary. but gary has 4 babes. so gary is not an entirely appropriate name after all. they are possibly thee slowest moving animals and blend in with their environments - can you see them? there are 3 garys...



leaving some words of wisdom for fellow lakit hikers.



the climb to the lakit look out.

simple

generosity.

have you noticed that it is contagious?

it is.

pay it forward.

distractions

click: when we knew we were feminists

a compilation of young feminists
who recap their life experiences
in order to locate moments
where they clicked.

clicked with the word "feminist" of course.

the beauty of it all
is that each moment ranges
some involve fishnet stockings
some involve hunting
others kurt cobain

but, ultimately, they arrive
at this muddled word
that has the ability to empower
a once lost soul

feminist.

when people ask me
point blank
are you a feminist?
i want to say yes.
but i stall.
not because i am unclear of my feminism
but because i am afraid that my inquisitors idea of feminism
is not the same as mine.

see, white feminists had a wee bit o'problem
when they first kicked off the liberation movement
they wanted to liberate women
but they often had a narrow definition of woman
therefore, women of colour (in particular) were excluded from this movement.

of course things have been mended - depending on which philosopher you speak to.
but i often feel the need to clarify
"yes. i am a feminist but i hold an interest in global feminism as well.
i am interested in intersectionality - how all of our locations intertwine
and what that evidently means for us in society.
throw in a special interest in health and disordered eating and bam.
you have a little ounce of my politics"

but how did i get here?
like many of the women in this book,
there was no single moment.
it was a series of clicks
and i am not naive enough to say that i have stopped clicking.

it is ongoing.
and, yes, sometimes it is exhausting.

there are times when i sit
surrounded by essays
bell hooks, mary daly, chandra mohanty...and on...and on..
and i wonder what the hell i am doing.

sometimes it seems too daunting.
too overwhelming.
and i need to step back.

the ebb and flow of activism.

it only takes one news story
of a young girl
who was gang-raped
then accused of "wanting it"
because she always dressed provocatively.

and click.

i'm back.

dumpster dove

yup. i did.

to (re)claim this gem.

it will look lovely in my pantry one day.

hey, you!

did you ever stop to think
that maybe i like my cellulite?

that, perhaps, i just want a body lotion.

all that you are offering me - across the entire damn board -
has built in "firming nutrients"

are you freaking kidding me?

p.s. dove: don't you even start to smirk
thinking you are getting off the hook with
your "beauty campaign"
we all know that you stem from unilever
who also owns axe, possibly thee most sexist company. ever.

sincerely,

b

the girl's guide to homelessness

by brianna karp



karp is homeless.
it was not expected.
she had a secure job
and it paid well
she had a cute character home
and a dog
and even a horse

it all came crashing down when the recession hit
and suddenly
karp had no address.

she was homeless.

karp takes you on a journey
by which she lives in a walmart parking lot
showers at the gym
searches for jobs on her laptop (yes, homeless people can have laptops)
and struggles to dismantle stereotypes of homeless individuals

she beautifully portrays the struggle that so many people undertook when the recession hit
and she does it while being aware of her location.
what i mean by this is that
she is aware she is white
and that puts her at an advantage
she is aware that she inherited a trailer
and that puts her at an advantage.

her location and her awareness of that location
becomes so prominent in her story
as she undergoes attack by the blogging world
for being racist and ungrateful of her white privilege.


i was drawn in.
almost instantly.
for so many reasons.

here are a few more:

1. karp comes from a lineage of jehovah's witnesses
and she speaks to her experiences
as a woman in this particular sect of religion
and how she feels this religion affected her relationship with her family

2. karp's family is nearly unbelievable*
in the non-compliment sort of way
her mom was incredibly abusive
her father was a pedophile that molested her at the tender age of 2
and then he later shot himself
her sister, who managed to side step all the abuse directed at karp,
watched from a corner
as her mom attacked her sister
and never spoke a peep - you can not even blame her.
she was so young.
and so very scared.


* please note - i am not making some sort of unfounded argument
that their chosen religion automatically makes them unstable and prone to such abusive behaviour.
i am only relaying the information that karp presents and how she feels it was all intertwined.


3. karp is homeless
and she does a beautiful job of
breaking down stigmas and stereotypes
that often plague homeless people
and she does it with such grace
and eloquence
and sophistication
that you simply cannot stop reading.

4. karp's romance with matt
a fellow blogger and homeless advocate
is endearing
yet alarming.
i sensed their was a problem stirring.
and by golly, was i right.

her language is blunt
it practically jumps off the page
and knocks on your heart
unabashedly.
her dialogue is stunning
and her honesty moved me.
this is a must-read.

it will show you
that homelessness is everywhere
in all kinds of forms
and challenges all of our preconceived notions.

confessions

my yoga mat stares at me with neglectful eyes
it is nicely rolled
cozying up with my yoga blocks
and it is disappointed.

or maybe that is me?

funny thing about i:

i work really well in chaos.
surprisingly well.

and that rule undoubtedly applies to my life.
the more packed my schedule is, the better.
i function better.
work harder
and apply myself 110% because i know there is little time to complete it all.

this is probably unhealthy.

but
so is this.
by this, i mean my summer of relaxation
i work a little.
i run a little.
i neglect my yoga mat.
i shop. more than i should.
and i read less than i had hoped.

why?
because. i have oodles of time.
i feel no pressure to complete any tasks.
because there will always be more time.

as for yoga
i decided to opt out of a gentle yoga
and instead solely work on my ashtanga practice

ashtanga is a raja yoga
which means it is a *masculine-inspired core power yoga
* i hate referring to it as masculine
but the ancient yogi's have deemed it so.

funny thing about ashtanga
is that is that it is truly intense
and it demands excellence
all the freakin' time.

i can do a mean ashtanga practice 2/week
so long as i balance it with a more gentle practice
but just ashtanga

not my best idea.

hence
my mat has been a little neglected
as i struggle and search deep in my little yogic soul
trying to find the gusto for another practice
even though 60% of the poses are hella hard.
and, sometimes, leave me frustrated.

needless to say,
i will be happy when my school schedule starts
my very busy school schedule!

i trust it will kick start my motivation
and instill happiness and success daily.

as for today

my gloomy spirits are tickled by two things:
1. dreaming of a puglet named eleanor
2. watching all the fluttering butterflies in the city.

they are whimsical.

love

boho anything.

Source: 17.media.tumblr.com via TaHe on Pinterest

dala horses

Source: remodelista.com via Catherine on Pinterest

military jackets

Source: vanessajackman.blogspot.com via Eva on Pinterest

cupcakes

Source: french-knot.tumblr.com via Jenn on Pinterest

morning stretches

Source: hepburnretreatcentre.com.au via Tech on Pinterest

a bad case of the mondays

it is true.

i would have given my first born to the devil
if only it meant i could stay in bed a little longer today

(for those of you who are keeping score...
yes. i already bartered a kidney and multiple beloved purses
for the same deal)

maybe i should just go to bed earlier?
seems more productive than spending my waking minutes
coming up with clever and careful deals with the devil.

while sleep was not on my side,
there have been some bursts of sunshine on my monday

including

my new scout and catalogue scarf
this scarf is a big deal
everyone knows about this scarf.
and how i stalked it for approximately 5 months
before i made the big move and bought it.
it is an investment, really.
this scarf is such a big deal
that it deserves its very own post.

stay tuned.

i'm still high from a busy but great weekend
regina folk festival just gets me every time
how can you go wrong?
good tunes, good food, good atmosphere and all under a blanket of stars.
i just don't see enough stars these days.

throw in couer de pirate
and this wall*
and i am sold.


* remember this post?

well.
i came face to face with the wall at folk fest.
it.was.awesome.





other things you should know:

ang and i represented for toms



and i got a war wound



i was attacked by a beer can
by attacked, i mean i flicked a kettle corn
that was teetering on the edge of my beer
and all the sudden i was gushing blood.

off to the first aid hut
where i was treated like the most special patient in the world

i only asked for a mere bandaid
and before i knew it
i was whisked inside
they turned on the lights
pulled out the gauze
and the peroxide
and then said

"ma'am you better take a seat"

to which i replied

"i'm really ok. it does not hurt"

and then

"take a seat! you are loosing a lot of blood"

oy. there was even talk of a tetanus shot.

5 to 10 minutes later
i stumbled out
still alive - despite my impressive bloodshed
sporting the above bandiad concoction.

awesome.

and there i stood

in front of the almighty (my closet)
and all i could manage to say was

oh....shit....

there are times when it gets so full
stuffed to the brim
that i start to panic a wee bit.

i have the sense to recognize that
i will likely never wear that sweater (again)
but what if i get rid of it
then i want it one cold day
we are bound to have cold days in saskatchewan.
and i will be without my beloved sweater.
you see the dilemma. right?

and then i start to do inventory.
i know i have to purchase more boots for fall
(yes, i have to)
and at least one more pair of jeans
i will absolutely need a new winter jacket
(yes, it is an absolute need)
and it really could not hurt to have a few more scarves
(guilty pleasure)

and then i start to panic. again.
where will i put all these must haves?

i think this post was meant to say one thing
and one thing only:

clothing swap needed. asap.

disclaimer one

sometimes i will spontaneously compose an idea

i might ponder about mexico
a goat
and some fabulous metal-smithing
in a run-down studio
just beside our creaky home.

or

baby-catching in paris
a baguette
some to-die-for vintage
and
cigarettes. only to fit in, of course.

on particularly energetic days,
i may propose bali.

you will need to figure out which one is suitable
which one is worthy
which one has a shot.
and pull out the luggage
knowing that we will come back.
we will always come back.
it is your cross to bear.

sometimes i will want to sleep in.
for a very long time.
limbs tangled in a quilt
sheets long ago kicked out
disheveled on the hardwood floor

sometimes i will be up when the sun rises
i will make some tea
or finish lastnight's wine
and come back to bed
to sit beside you and watch the stirrings of morning time.

sometimes you will not hold my hand
and i will become completely insecure about my hand
wondering what could possibly be so wrong with it
and other times,
you will not hold my hand
and that will be perfectly fine.

sometimes i will curl up in your nook
with a great tale
and snuggle as i read.
i could do this all day.

sometimes my books
will be abandoned
alone with no eager fingers in sight.
in these times, i have lost interest
in the cliché of reading for pleasure
and will want other forms of pleasure.

you can decide what forms. you will like that job.

sometimes i will want ice cream.
copious amounts of icecream.
home made icecream, of course.
you will need to comply.
i take food seriously.
really seriously.
too many empty meals
will make me really cranky.
and i will sulk.
for approximately one day.

let's just make ice cream.


so
as you see
i'm difficult.
and a little on the verge of insane.
teetering on the edge of
a world of insecurities
and a world of strengths.

but i'm worth it.
i am so worth it.

eventually
my children will be sent off to school
wearing upcycled clothing
and a sticker on their lunchbox that
expresses their love for the environment

they will sit yogically
and eat odd vegan concoctions
and wonder
"what the hell is wrong with my mama*?"

and you will have no other choice
but to grin
a sly grin
and reply

"absolutely nothing"

can you do that?

* my children will have to call me mama. okay?

good eggs by phoebe potts

a memoir and a comic book? yup.

a memoir and a comic book
tackling a very personal and painful issue? yup.

potts and her partner cannot have children.
after trying a lot on their own
they delve into the world of technology
(IVF, etc etc)

let's just be honest.

technology has its pros
and its cons
and potts introduces you to all of them.

she tackles these issues head on
and with a sense of humour
which is both confusing
and enlightening.

her witty sense of humour appears many times throughout her memoir
i personally love her commentary of her only child (her kitty)
i.e. food? food? i think that is my dish right there. it's empty..let me show you where the food is. food?


and so
in the end
do they get their baby?

that is for you to find out.
and get a few good giggles along the way.