the good, the bad, and the jobby.

When I envisioned myself going back to work, I pictured the right job.  Something challenging, satisfying, (but not depleting) and part-time to allow a more gradual transition to the kiddies (and to me).  I will wait for the 'right' one, I reasoned.  Otherwise, why not just keep on keeping on? 

But gradually, it seems as though this was a utopian thought bubble.  Because one has to secure childcare before one gets a job, right?  So - we've secured a great spot for Boy-o starting in September, in the before and after care program at his school.  It's a full-time spot, because that's all they offer.  But it's a great program and we feel pretty good about it.  However, starting in September, our expenses move up $700 per month.  Not including whatever we will pay for Girlio's as yet unprocured spot.  And I still don't have a job.  Um, not that I'm panicking or anything.  (Me?  Lay awake at night in sheer panic?  Nah.  Not me.)   And then there's the issue of whether I'll actually be paying to go back to work.  Which is a whole 'nother ball of wax that may or may not have me lying awake at night. 

And so I've found myself tempted to apply for jobs willy-nilly.  Crap jobs.  Any part-time job. (and a whole lot of them are crappy).  I've written cover letter that  dumb down my skills in the hopes that someone will want a filing clerk with an M.A.  Because we can't go into debt anymore.   Because maybe my frustration at the constant backwards financial slide is greater than my desire to be intellectually stimulated.   I'm not really sure anymore.

Maybe I should just stay put. 

Maybe.  Maybe.  Maybe.  Maybe. 

"Mom - sometimes I get that not-so-fresh feeling"

Remember that ad?  Anyone?  I think it's permanently emblazoned in my noggin.  But in case you need a refresher...http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N91XsdrBqUY

Ahhh- the good old body shaming 'feminine hygiene ads'.  Well - according to some of the folks at Sociological Images, there was a trailer for Summer`s Eve, which makes some of said aforementioned ridiculous products, before Harry Potter 6.2 across the U.S.   Which is, in a nutshell, all kinds of gross.  But I guess if you`re aiming to make women believe that their vaginas are dirty and smell bad, you gotta get èm while they`re young.  And - if you want to really get all the kids - making separate ads for different racial groups, using all kinds of super funny stereotypes is even better!

Check it out if you need your daily dose of "are you fucking kidding me?!"

http://thesocietypages.org/socimages/2011/07/20/summers-eves-hail-to-the-v-campaign/

and then, if you need your daily dose of laughing your arse off (it's worth the trip). 

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2010/12/10/sarah-silverman-vagina-psa_n_795007.html

Another kid's music artist who won't make you want to cut off your own ears...

This artist was introduced to us by some friends just before we left Winnipeg for the long car ride home. This album got a LOT of play, and this song in particular never failed to bring a smile to Boy-o's face. (And I'm kinda sweet on it too.)

pickin' your poisons

So as I type, the kidlets and I are testing out one of those toxic-fumes-spewing-mosquito-killer lanterns in the backyard.  It goes against most of my morals.  What with all the fume-y grossness being inhaled by my littles, the birdies, whathaveyou.   It even says right on the freaking package that said product has proven destructive and deadly to fish, so we ought not to put it near water or directly inhale.  Lovely. 

The thing is this.  My Boy-o is a sensitive lad.  In all kinds of ways.  But the pertinent way for today's conversation is the rather severe allergic reaction to bug bites which cause him to scratch off layer after layer of skin until he becomes a wee walking festering wound.  And this after constant use of Afterbite, calamine AND daily doses (and sometimes overdoses) of kids Claritin to try to help deal with the problem.  Friends, it ain't pretty.  We've tried every natural bug repellent known to humanity.  Dryer sheets, citronella, natural sprays, etc. etc.   I've endured smug Organic Planet staff telling me things like: "If he just had enough B vitamins, the mosquitos wouldn't bite him."  And I didn't even drop-kick her on her hippy patchouli-scented- Birkenstock-lovin' arse.  (For which I believe I am due some serious karmic points for said feat of restraint).  We moved on to deet.  More deet.   The little dude is still covered in bites.  And open wounds.  It's itchy.  It's painful.  It's awful to watch and often more than a little gross.

So my choice becomes this:  kill the baby fishies and maybe even a few baby birdies and let us all inhale a few toxins or give up on the idea of finding some relief for my kiddo. 

Sorry baby fishies.  You're shit out of luck.

Uncomfortable epiphanies of the parent variety

All these years, I've been coveting a lovely bathside table (you know, something pretty and functional) for my bath accoutrements and, no, this is not an invitation for naughty thoughts (though I've always been a do-whatcha-gotta-do kinda gal). I'm talking about my book, my highlighter (which I believe we've already established is a life necessity and pleasure) and my glass of wine (which I doubly believe we've already established as a life necessity and pleasure). Anyhoo... It turns out that all I really needed was the ever nifty stepstool potty combo, which comes in a lovely (ugly) shade of mint green, and is available (in case you are finding yourself feeling insanely jealous) at Toysrus.

Halifax newspaper pulls Venus Envy ads

The Metro paper in Halifax has pulled an ad by local queer owned Venus Envy because they deemed it innappropriate.  The paper cited "graphic depiction of a sex toy" as their reason for pulling said ad and suggested that readers and other advertisers found the ad offensive.  The sex toy in question is the "the Rabbit" - and yes, yes it is the very same one (though perhaps hers was unfortunately less rainbowy) that Charlotte developed a lengthy relationship with on Sex and the City. 

People will likely protest that they don't want their kids' tender eyes to see said Rabbit.  To this I say: "Poppycock!"  "Hogwash!"  and "Mallarky!"  If we're more worried about our kids finding out about how satisfying sex is a wonderful, nurturing part of life than we are, say, about their daily dose of advertised encouragement of self-hatred, body dissatisfaction and the other general shite and misogyny much advertising pushes, then we all need to give our heads a giant collective shake. 

But I wonder, in my heart of queer hearts, if perhaps the Metro didn't pull the ad because the mere sight of our be-rainbowed friend Rabbit is offensive.  I wonder if the pull, and the complaints that resulted in the pull, have just as much to do with the rainbow-y-ness of the Rabbit, as with the site of that rascally old Rabbit itself.  The ad is full of words and phrases that depict queerness and sex.  And queers loving sex and being public about it?  Now, that is downright scary.

URGENT: Hunger strikers’ health rapidly deteriorating

URGENT: Hunger strikers’ health rapidly deteriorating

The above link details shocking events taking place in California prisons, and provides a link to a petition, as well as pertinent politician contact information. So click and read for a daily dose of GRRRRRRRRRRR.

Simple girl, happy belly

Fresh rainbow swiss chard, plucked from the garden, lightly sautéed in garlic, lemon, white wine + shucked peas from the market, lightly simmered Atlantic salmon, marinated in balsamic, maple syrup, garlic, dash of salt and pepper and thrown on the BBQ + teensy new potatoes, direct from the market + marvelous mojitos, muddled to perfection by The Mrs. =

Divinity.

The moody blues

I'm grumpy. Grey. (Or gray, depending on which way your potAto/potahto falls). This always happens when I get back from being home.

Because visiting home is time with my moms, my sis, and the kind of good, good friends that you can speak to every six months or more, and just pick up where you left off. Being at home is being surrounded by the beauty and ease of my old 'hood. Being at home is being taken care of, not making dinner (heavenly), babysitters who love the time alone with their grandsmalls, and tell you to go out again the next night. A breathe of fresh air, a time of reconnection, a glimpse of freedom.

But vacations don't last forever, no matter how lovely. And when I come back to Edmonton, I mourn the loss of the freedom, my people, my family, my stomping grounds. And Edmonton seems too industrial, too sprawling, too isolating, too much.

This return has the added bonus of throwing a bit 'o 'get a damn job because you are now the proud owner of before and after school care that you can't afford for Boy-o' stress, combined with the old 'you still don't have a daycare spot for Girlio which you also can't afford' stress, with a little bit of 'who the heck is going to hire you anyways?' stress thrown in for good measure. And let's not even get into the am-I-really-smart/crazy/driven enough to put the gears in motion to return to school next Sept. and all the corresponding hoops that will entail. I got to forget all about those persistent worries on vacation, but it seems to have waited patiently for me. (Lucky girl.)

In a few days I will remember the things that I love about this city the people I have met and grown to love, the places of beauty nestled in between the industry, the opportunities for my family, maybe for me too.

I will remember that you need to grow where you're planted.

But right now, I'm feeling more than a little sad, and perhaps a little surly about the end of vacation-y glowy-ness.


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Gay and trans jokes in pop culture

What to say? It's everywhere. Most movies have a gay joke, a person of 'questionable' gender as a source of levity. (Or a fat person - they're super funny too. Anyhow). Its very annoying Bitch magazine posted an interesting discussion and video montage of treatment of queerness on Friends. Makes for an interesting watch.

http://bitchmagazine.org/post/ill-be-there-for-you-but-not-in-a-gay-way-homophobic-friends