Archive for the ‘happiness’ Category

Scent of a Woman

July 20, 2012

 

Source:scottcentral.dds.bschools.ca

For as long as I can remember I have loved books. I used to make my parents read me the same stories over and over again until I had them memorized and then I would recite them verbatim, impressing their friends and my aunts and uncles by telling them I was reading. When I actually did learn to read you couldn’t get my nose out of whatever book I was reading. My dad, an English teacher, would take my sister and I to the library often to ensure we always had a stack of books to pick from, especially during breaks from school. Even the fact that I got motion sickness from reading in the car couldn’t tear me away from a good story. I once vomited on a whole stack of library books strewn across the back seat, angering my father who then had to purchase all of the books and upsetting me who couldn’t finish the one I was reading. From then on I was sedated with Gravol for road trips. My favorite books of all were the new ones I was able to order every few months through the Scholastic Book Club at school. The catalog would come and I would pore over it oh so carefully, feeling heavy with the weight of my decision. Would it be The Babysitters Club or Sweet Valley High? Oh dear. Finally the books would come, packaged together, banded with an elastic. I remember how those books felt, their smooth covers, the way they smelled when you first opened them, the freshness of the new, crisp pages. I still appreciate the joy of a new book.

Source:bookpatrol.net

Does this interest you? Perhaps not. But perhaps my memories have evoked some fond ones of your own. Maybe you, like me, will be interested/amused/disturbed/skeptical/elated to learn that the new book smell is now available as a fragrance. That’s right. There is a new perfume out called ‘Paper Passion’ which “conjures the smell of your newest bookstore purchase”. It is a collaboration between Wallpaper magazine, German book publisher Gerhard Steidl, fashion designer extraordinaire Karl Lagerfeld who designed the packaging, and perfume designer Geza Schoen who perfected the scent. For $115 you get the perfume cleverly packaged in a panel inside of a book with it’s same name. Why a perfume that smells like paper?? According to Steidl “To wear the smell of a book is something very chic. Books are players in the intellectual world, but also in the world of luxury,” Chic? Hmm. Some books or series have gained cult status. Examples: The Secret, the Twilight or Hunger Games trilogies, the Harry Potter series, and the recent racy 50 Shades series. Devouring these books along with hordes of others can make a woman feel like part of something, give her a sense of belonging in a community. By reading works by undiscovered authors, or touching on controversial or unsavory material some may be trying to showcase their individuality and their desire to go against the grain, and perhaps their dissent from and hostility towards popular culture. Depending on genre or subject matter, possessing a certain book can make a woman feel sophisticated or intelligent or worldly. And apparently it’s looks and not just smell that matters when it comes to books. Recently publishers have been revamping the covers of their classics in order to attract more readers. Splinter, a division of Sterling publishing, hired Manhattan fashion illustrator Sara Singh to do the watercolor-like illustrations for the covers of their Classic Lines series. With the worlds of fashion and literature colliding perhaps books are becoming chic after all.

Source:walkingpaper.org

Let’s explore further. Scent is very much tied to memory and emotion. While the smell of a new book may lead men to think of sexy librarians, I doubt it will conjure up such racy imagery in women. Most women I know wear perfume because they like the smell but also because they like the way it makes them feel (sexy, happy, confident) or it evokes a nice memory. The smell of a book makes me think of my childhood, and it makes me feel happy and content. I have described some of the memories it conjures up above. Perhaps such warm, fuzzy feelings would be incentive for some women to make this perfume their signature scent. Only time will tell how sucessful this product will be, but if the popularity of similar products are any indication, Mr. Lagerfeld may want to stick to selling clothes. For example, the perfume “In the Library” by renegade perfumer Christopher Brosius with scents of paper, leather, and even dust, has managed to slip under the radar of popular culture.

The problem is that while many people love the smell of paper, much like many love that “new car smell” or the smell of gasoline (some people do!), I don’t know that a desire to wear this scent follows the adoration for it. When I long for the smell of a book, I can go to my bookshelf, inhale deeply and drink it in. I can go to the local library or bookstore for an extra dose. Some predict a day when books are no longer available. When ebooks and tablets will be our sources of literature. My children may never experience that new book smell. In that case I may wish I had a bottle of ‘Paper Passion’ available to waft under their little noses as I tell them all about my childhood and the wonder of holding a new book in your hands and opening it for the first time, the cover still stiff, eagerly anticipating the unknown world inside. Perhaps this perfume should be “put on the shelf” for now. Pun intended.

Girl Crush

July 12, 2012

Those of you thinking this blog post is going to be a Katy Perry song-like torrid tale of a girl on girl kiss can stop reading now.

Source:peracollege.wordpress.com

I moved to Vancouver about 3 years ago from Winnipeg where I had lived all of my life (then 28 years). The total number of people I knew in Vancouver at that time: 3. My boyfriend (now fiancee) Bradford, his good friend, and a friendly acquaintance. I was leaving behind my family, my job, my house and all of my friends to be with a man. Before the move my feet were so cold they were numb. While in the future the cloyingly romantic tale we tell our children will be that of a couple who took the chance at love and lived happily ever after, when I first arrived in this strange new city I felt more trepidation than excitement. Nothing was familiar, I felt lost, anonymous and incredibly lonely. Moving had certainly improved my romantic relationship and I had never felt so sure about anyone as I did about the man I had dropped everything for. On the other hand I was distressed by how my relationships with everyone else I loved had changed. I didn’t want to talk to them on the phone, I hate Skype, I don’t remember my MSN messenger password and my Facebook page had changed so much I couldn’t seem to navigate it. Sadness turned to anger and resentment as I blamed poor Bradford for tearing me away from my life to move to this rotten city (voted world’s 5th most livable city) which quickly turned to guilt as he was continuously bending over backwards to make me feel at home. BS: “Look! I bought you a new bike!” Me: “Stupid new European bike. Only one speed. How am I going to ride that in the beautiful Rocky Mountains which are only 30 minutes from our home on the ocean?” BS: “We can go buy some fresh fish right off a fishing boat at Granville island!” Me: “I don’t feel comfortable consuming fish which hasn’t been frozen and vacuum sealed then stamped with a quality seal by Captain Highliner”. BS: “Let’s drive down the coast to California!” Me: “I get carsick on road trips without acres of flat prairie farmland to focus on.” It is said that misery loves company, but since I had no friends I quickly realized that unless I wanted to have a pity party of one I would have to snap out of it. So I decided to give life a real chance here.

Although Bradford had a very inviting, fun and broad group of friends who we socialized with together my feeling of solitude could only be filled by a close girlfriend. I missed girl talk. I also wanted a group of friends of my own. I had always been independent and I suddenly felt like more of an us than a me. I am of the opinion that a healthy couple shouldn’t be joined at the hip. This viewpoint is shared by many experts. Marriage expert/counselor Dr. Margaret Paul PhD says “Some couples spend a lot of time together because they really enjoy it, while others spend a lot of time together out of fear of being alone. It is important for a healthy relationship for each person to have friends and interests, so they are not dependent on each other. Dependency is not healthy in a relationship, particularly emotional dependency.” Psychotherapist Wendy Allen says “Each partner should strive to be a whole, healthy individual who can make positive contributions to the marriage and space encourages the solid, cohesive sense of self in each person.” “Having a variety of friends is a route toward developing—personally, socially, and spiritually. Participating in a variety of activities makes you well-rounded, and gives you more to talk about with your partner.” says Christopher Knippers, author of “Cultivating Confidence”. Understanding how I felt, Bradford would encourage me to call this person or that person from our mutual group of friends for some “girl time” but it felt strange to have to force a friendship. I was waiting to really click with someone. I took a photography course, a hula hooping class, a pole dancing class. I even went for a drink with one of the girls from class. I never called her again.

There was a time when I wasn’t so picky. When I liked to go out every night to lounges, bars or concerts. I wanted to see and be seen. I wanted to dance. My criteria for a girlfriend was essentially that she be fun, easygoing and able to do a lot of shooters. I couldn’t tell you what most of these ‘friends’ are doing these days. Now that I’m older, I want quality over quantity. I want someone to go to brunch with and talk (read:bitch) about my week. I want someone to go shopping with who will give me a real and honest opinion about the skirt I’m trying on (and not make me go into Lulu Lemon or Banana Republic EVER). I want someone I can call when I have PMS and I’m crying about something silly and no one else will understand. Someone who gets my sense of humor and who has one too. Someone intelligent with opinions and world views. Someone well read. Someone who still likes to have a good time but who won’t puke on my shoes if we go out for drinks. I don’t think it’s too much to ask. But as hard as I tried, I was having no luck. There is no friend finding equivalent of Match.com. I checked. It felt like I was losing my sense of self, not really opening up and being myself in social settings because I didn’t feel comfortable with the people I was with. My partner would ask “why don’t you ask so and so to go get a pedicure?” I would cry.

The first time I had a girl crush was in nursery school. Her name was Rachel. She was mesmerizing. She had long, blonde, curly hair and bright blue eyes and she looked like a princess. For our recital she was Snow White. I was a Rain Man. When I skipped from the first to the third grade I walked terrified into the classroom on the first day of school and didn’t know a single person in the class.The teacher introduced me and then told me to sit down. I stood at the front of the class awkwardly scanning the room, my face burning, looking for a place to sit. Suddenly, an adorable little girl named Tamara with long brown hair and olive skin put her hand up and announced loudly “You can sit here! You can be our friend!” referring to herself and another girl beside her. This girl, my second girl crush, will be a bridesmaid in my wedding. In junior high it was a freckled redhead named Kim who was a model and taught me how to smoke and introduced me to my first boyfriend. In high school it was Jen who wore vintage clothes and shiny lipstick and had the straight shiny hair down to her J-Lo butt. There are just some girls you just meet and immediately know you will bond with because you see a part of yourself in them, or a part of who you want to be. I don’t keep in touch with every girl who has caught my fancy, but I have shared secrets and memories with all of them. I had left many of my best friend behind in Winnipeg and while I knew I could never replace them, I needed to find that kind of magic with someone again.

Source:thesun.co.uk

One night a friend from high school who I learned had moved to the city years ago invited me out with him and his friends. One of his friends was a well-dressed woman my age, and we started to talk. We talked about our families, our friends, where we used to live (about 20 minutes from each other!) and our mutual love for perogies. She made me smile, she made me laugh! I talked to her all night, and then we exchanged phone numbers. I felt like a teenager debating whether to call her or whether our connection was all in my head. The first time we went out for dinner, she met me in tights and a t-shirt. I was in a dress. I slunk down in my chair a little. The minute she sat down she burst into tears. Any nervousness I felt immediately dissipated. This was my kinda girl, I thought, she’s so real. We ordered some strong drinks and chicken wings and talked about her bad day. She quickly became my Vancouver best friend. We were similar in ways that mattered and different in ways that were complementary. She liked yoga while I despised it. She would order pancakes at breakfast and I would order eggs and hashbrowns so we could share. We had different styles so we didn’t fight over clothes. She was retro and I’m fashion forward. We both like True Blood, meat buns, perogies, bikes, vintage, 90’s hip-hop and nerds. Between my boyfriend and her, I started to enjoy my new home.

Over the almost 3 years I’ve now been here I’ve made more girlfriends. We’ve had girl talk, laughed, danced, talked politics and religion, gossiped, and yes even gotten pedicures together. I still miss my oldest and best friends from Winnipeg and visit whenever I have a chance. But I’m also thankful I have had the chance to build these new friendships, to meet these engaging new people and get to know them. Every new relationship you forge helps to transform and enrich your life and friendships between women are among the strongest and most important in their lives. My Vancouver best friend just moved away and while I will miss having her so close by I will always consider her a close friend and the girl who reminded me how fun a girl crush can be.

MEAN GIRLS (i.e all of us)

May 9, 2012

thetbjoshuafanclub.wordpress.com

I am in the beautiful city of London right now. I have found the locals generally accomodating and friendly in this city. Unfortunately, the city also teems with hordes of tourists wandering aimlessly, seemingly unaware of where they are and where they are going. Today alone I have been directly walked into, had my feet stepped on, been bumped into and been cut off numerous times. In a large and congested city this is almost unavoidable. What bothers me is the fact that these incidents go unacknowledged. It seems like nobody appreciates consideration for their fellow man anymore. People walk around texting without looking, run into you, and don’t bother apologizing. You let someone into your lane while driving, and they don’t even bother to give you a wave. You are walking into a building after someone, and they let the door slam in your face. Where is the courtesy?

I will admit I was once a mean girl. In the movies the mean girl is usually a beautiful yet evil creature that everyone hates yet pretends to love who manipulatively and purposefully sets out to destroy another girl who secretly makes her feel insecure. The other girl is tortured and humiliated but perseveres and ultimately prevails in life. I did not have a specific arch nemesis nor was I the alpha female in my social group. I was simply part of a large group of female friends who were considered popular at my high school. I was the traditional insecure female high school girl trying to climb the social ladder. My friends and I would often gossip about each other or turn on each other over petty dalliances. We would be cruel to girls who we felt were ‘losers’ or who dated any boys any of our friends liked. We would bully others for their physical or mental weaknesses. Of course I was not a mean girl all the time. I was a kind and true friend to many girls, several whom are now women I still consider good friends today. My lashing out as a teen came from wanting to fit in and being unsure of who I really was.

I consider myself a reformed mean girl now. As I have come to be more sure of myself I no longer have a need to drag down other people to make myself feel better. I have at times been asked to describe people I know with one word. There are some women I know who I could not find a better word to describe them with than “nice”. They are genuinely kind and caring with not a malicious or sarcastic bone in their body. They see the glass as half full. They see the world through rose colored glasses. They would bend over backwards to make sure everyone else is happy and taken care of and not resent it in the slightest.  I am not one of those women. I can be cynical and sarcastic. I can be moody and short-tempered. But I do believe I am genuinely sincere when say that I make every effort possible to be good and kind. I give to others. I share what I have. I try to think of others. I try not to be petty or jealous. I try not to be greedy. I try not to judge.

But at times like this, when it seems like the world is lacking any sort of civility, I wonder, what if I decided to abandon all attempts at kindness? Maybe I will just go on a nice strike. The next time I have a seat on a bus, maybe I’ll just keep it. Little old lady gets on? Tough. She can stand. Better yet, let her sit on her walker. She has a mobile seat, why doesn’t she use it? Person with a wheelchair? Also already seated. They will fare just fine in the aisle. Lady with a baby carriage? Why should I get up for her? I’ve been standing all day at WORK. What’s she been doing? Sitting at home? No way I’m getting up. Hold the door open for the next person? Screw that! Do it yourself. Donate to charity? I work for my money. Why can’t those lazy people in Africa just do the same thing? There are mines and stuff there they can work in. I hear people are starving there. Maybe more people should get jobs. I’m not sparing any change either. You need some lunch? I need some lunch!! Do you know how much the salad bar at Whole Foods costs? Never mind the organic soda. Go occupy something. No, I’m not free to talk. I have to catch up on Gossip Girl. It’s the season finale. I’m sorry if you’re marriage just broke up, but over 50% do so what did you expect? I can’t make it on Saturday, I just don’t like you and your cooking sucks.

This will never actually happen. It is a proven fact that doing good makes people feel happier and this has proven true for me. (This is only true when you are doing it for truly good reasons and not just to make yourself feel superiour!) But I must admit sometimes it is tempting. Here in London tipping appears to be an unusual phenomenon. So I guess if the feeling does come over me, I can feel mean just not tipping my cabbie. For the rest of you, there is nothing wrong with letting out some steam once in a while. The reason some women seem so nice is that the rest of us can’t be all of the time.

Are you settling down or just settling?

May 5, 2012

When I was 10 I thought I would be married with 2 kids by the time I was 20. By 15 I thought 20. By 18 I had pushed this back to about 22. By 20 I was thinking about 28. At 25 I thought 30. At 30 I thought 35. Im 31 now. I’m engaged. I will be married right before my 32nd birthday. 35 still seems somewhat reasonable for children, but talk to me in a couple of years. When I think about who I was dating at the above ‘milestones’ (15, 18, 20, 25) above, I wonder what my life would have been like had I in fact gotten married and had kids then. It’s a scary thought. (If any of my ex-boyfriends are reading this, I’m not talking about you of course). I would have been settling. Not because the men I was dating were flawed, but because the relationships were. And OK, in some cases the men were too.

Every woman has a vision for her life. An idea in her mind of how her future will look. This vision will change as the woman blossoms and grows but there will always be a goal in mind. At some point the woman will reach maturity. This is not to say that she will not continue to grow and flourish but that she has found her place in the world and her personality, ideals and temperment are firmly rooted and difficult to alter. Some women at this point in their lives have achieved all of their dreams. They are the lucky few. The rest of us exist on a spectrum. That spectrum goes from those women who may not have everything they dreamed of but are happy with what they have and the choices they have made, to those women that feel that they have settled for less than they deserve. In the middle lie those that aren’t sure they know the difference.

Everybody makes choices in life. There are few people who truly have it all. I moved away from family and a job I loved to be with the person I wanted to spend my life with. Was it worth it? Yes. But I like my current job less and I would prefer to be with my partner AND in the same city as my family and best friends. I have a good friend who was in a long-term relationship with a person she loved but could not see a future with. She was 32 years old. When she broke up with him she said to me “I realize that at my age breaking up with him means I might be losing my chance to have children, but I would rather be with someone that is right for me than have children with someone who is not”. I had never thought this way before, and I still don’t believe she is doomed to be celibate, but it is true that women in their 30’s have to think about fertility issues. With more women choosing to have careers as well as families and establishing these careers before having children the reality is it is not always as easy to procreate as one would hope. Hollywood makes it look like having babies at 40 is the norm and that fertility treatments work 100% of the time. The reality is that these treatments take a huge toll on your body, are extremely expensive (about $15 000 per cycle) and are not always effective. The side effects include fluid retention, weight gain, nausea, diarrhea, pelvic discomfort due to enlarged cystic ovaries, breast tenderness, mood swings, headache and fatigue.The efficacy is about 30-35% if you are 30-35, 25% if you are 35-37 and 10-20% if you are 38-40. Over 40? Only 6-10% effective. And if a woman does get pregnant naturally in her late 30’s early 40’s whether naturally or using fertility treatments, the risk of birth defects increases dramatically. At age 35 there is a 1 in 365 chance of giving birth to a baby with Down Syndrome. At 40 the risk is 1 in 100. There are also women who choose to forgo children entirely for their career. Or women who forgo a career for children. These are all choices. If at the end of the day a woman is happy with her choices, she is not settling for anything, she is simply rearranging her priorities.

The problem is when a woman sacrifices something that is truly important to her. A coworker of mine once announce she was getting married. She said about her future partner “He’s not really attractive or anything, but he wants kids”. It struck me as so sad that she had nothing loving or caring to say about her future husband. In my mind, there isn’t a person alive who wouldn’t want a relationship filled with love. I thought she was settling due to her wish for children and the fact she was 35 years old and had not yet found someone. This may or may not have been the case. If having children was of utmost importance to her and romantic love not important to her, then she would in fact not have been settling. Perhaps I was projecting my happiness criteria onto her. But many women do settle for less than they deserve every day. They settle for men that are beneath them. They settle for jobs that are beneath them and pay that is beneath them. They settle for treatment that is inexcusable. Men settle as well. I once dated a man just out of a 6 year relationship. We didn’t have much in common. He was a vegetarian. I am a carnivore. He likes the great outdoors. I cry after 1 day of camping. After 2 weeks he had asked me on a trip that was to take place 6 months later. He also unplugged my Glade air freshener concerned it would burn down my apartment. At 3 weeks he asked me about our future. It was too much, too soon. Essentially, he was just substituting me into his life where his last girlfriend used to be. I could have been anyone. He was settling. I didn’t want to be around when he realized it. Settling is not just making a choice, it is giving up. And no one should ever give up on what is important in life, because once you do you will have nothing to live for.

Easter spells EAT!!

April 9, 2012

Source:1funny.com

 

This year I thought a bit about what Easter means to me. I’m not a religious person. I wouldn’t quite say I’m an atheist, because I think I believe in ghosts and spirits and if there is an afterlife then maybe there is a big cheese there, some head honcho, a ‘divine ruler’ if you will. But I have had enough dalliances into the Christian faith in my lifetime to seriously doubt that the answer is there. The only grandparents I have ever met are of the Mennonite faith and went to church every Sunday. My Oma does not question the existence of god, only the likelihood of seeing her family members in his kingdom of heaven in the afterlife. So far I have no chance, as I have never been baptized. (In the Mennonite faith you are baptized as an adult). It looked promising for me when I was quite young. There were a few Sunday school lessons as a young girl until my parents finally had their fill of having to go to sermons themselves so I could attend. My sister and I owned a children’s book of bible stories which I enjoyed reading. One summer my parents even sent us to a camp with a religious component. We came back thoroughly brainwashed and convinced they were going to hell for all of their sins: getting divorced, drinking alcohol, using the lord’s name in vain, swearing. They were surely going to burn. It didn’t take long to reverse the damage, we quickly realized that being a devout Christian wasn’t a lot of fun. Anyway, I have a basic understanding of the Easter story, and what it means to those of the Christian faith.

What Easter means to most people I know: FOOD. For as long as I can remember, Easter has been another reason to gather, celebrate, and eat. Much like every other holiday, it is an excuse to overindulge. Food brings people together like nothing else, and many people have holiday food traditions that have existed since they were children. For our family, the Easter meal is ham. When I think of ham, I think of Easter. But family gatherings have not always been a positive experience for me. When I was suffering with an eating disorder, the idea of family dinners terrified me. I knew there would be expectations placed on me to eat all of the delicious food, the bread, the meat and potatoes and the fat-laden gravy. I could just visualize the fat depositing right onto my stomach and my ass. I would try all of the anorexic tricks. Eating slowly, filling up my plate with vegetables, cutting things up in small pieces. But when it comes to a Mennonite feast, you can’t get out of there without a full stomach. Which meant of course that I had to throw up afterwards, which always made me feel guilty and worn out. Even in recovery, family dinners can be difficult. I still feel at times that people are watching what I eat, making sure it’s enough, but not too much. Sometimes when I go to the bathroom after a meal, I feel like I have to prove I’m not purging. Sometimes I just try to pee at record speed, even skipping washing my hands. I think “No one will think I could have thrown up that quickly!!” Other times I will try to have a conversation with someone outside of the bathroom, or sing or talk to myself loudly. No one can vomit and talk at the same time!! I have gotten over most of this now, and can just enjoy a holiday meal for the good food, and the good company. But what I’ve discovered is that for a lot of women holiday feasts can bring about feelings of anxiety, guilt and shame. People tend to eat and drink too much, abandon their diets, regain lost weight. Not to mention the stress women can be under to prepare these elaborate meals. With family dynamics shifting away from the ‘nuclear family’ idea of 2 parents, 2 ½ kids and a dog, people may have multiple meals to attend in a day or over several days. I have a friend who went to 4 dinners this weekend. She claims to have gained 10 pounds. While I doubt this is true, this 4-day gorge-fest has certainly affected her self-esteem, if not her waistline.

It’s interesting to me that in the Christian faith, Easter is a celebration of God sacrificing his only Son to pay the penalty for our sins so that we can have eternal life. This sacrifice is celebrated with gluttony. (I will note that for some Christian faiths this gluttony follows a period of fasting, I just don’t know anyone who actually does this). In the Jewish faith, the Passover feast which celebrates the Israelites being freed from slavery in Egypt, consists of a much less appealing spread. Each component is representative of some part of the story about the Jewish people fleeing Egypt. Matzah, or unleavened bread to represent the haste with which the Jewish people fled, maror, bitter herbs to symbolize the bitterness of slavery, karpas, a vegetable like parsley or celery representing hope and redemption served in a bowl of salted water representing tears shed etc. For the entire 8 days of Passover, nothing with yeast is allowed, and there are several other food restrictions. It is a time of respectful sacrifice. Again, I’m not a religious person, but it sounds like by rearranging their philosophy a bit, Christians could seriously decrease their caloric intake.

For the rest of us agnostics, we just need to remember that it’s only a meal. Food is to be consumed, it shouldn’t consume us. If you eat more than you meant to, don’t beat yourself up over it. Here are some rules that might help you: If you ate an entire family-sized bag of Mini Eggs over the long weekend, don’t sweat it!! Nothing with the word mini in the name can affect your waistline significantly. Remember, red wine is good for your heart, and I read a study once that showed women who drink a glass of red wine daily are on average thinner than those that don’t. I’m sure the same is true for multiple glasses of red wine, white wine, tequila, gin, beer etc. One serving of vegetables cancels out one serving of carbohydrate. The same goes for a glass of diet soft drink. If you cook with olive oil you don’t count that as fat, because it’s “good fat”. Same goes for any fat in olives or avocados. Finally, anything you eat while cooking doesn’t count because you are doing manual labor and you are burning off all of those calories. If you feel better, it is probably a good time to mention that all Easter chocolate is now 50% off. Please, someone buy up all the Mini Eggs!!! They are my Achilles heel!

DAMN THE MA’AM

April 7, 2012

 

This morning saw me rushing to work, running late as usual. As I was leaving, my fiancee looked at me admiringly and said “I like your makeup today”. I wasn’t wearing any makeup. If there was any doubt in my mind as to whether this was the man for me, this would certainly have erased it. I humbly blushed, which I’m sure only served to increase my radiance. I am a goddess, I thought as I set forth proudly from the apartment to face the world. 

Fast forward a few minutes. I am in line at Starbucks. Finally it is my turn to give my order to the approximately 28-year old American Apparel skinny jean-clad, faux-hawked, over-caffeinated, hipster barista with the pedophile moustache my order. “What can I get you today ma’am?” MA’AM????? Heeeeelllllll no!!! You see, I have come to terms with being called ma’am in certain situations. When 15 year-old shop girls or teenage boys call me ma’am? Cute. I can see they are trying to be polite, and I have accepted that at twice their age, I may appear an old bag. When a cute little girl pointed at me and said to her mother “Look mom, that lady has red shoes” I dealt with it. I guess I’ve crossed into lady territory. I’m a woman, no longer a girl. Fine, I get it. But when some jackass dude at a coffee shop who is essentially my chronological age calls me ma’am. Not OK. To you, sir, I am a Miss. Pronounces with the ess sound, not Ms., pronounces with the zed sound, which makes me think of my old battleax of a grade one teacher. I’m 31, not 75. I still feel young and vital, and my hips don’t creak when I walk. So, dear readers, the next time you think of calling a woman ma’am, think again. It is never polite to insinuate she is a crusty old maid. But, the sun was shining, and I was determined not to let him ruin my good mood. I was still gorgeous, I was a natural knockout, I was Hebe, goddess of youth. But I did put on some lipgloss when I got to work. Hey, my lips were dry. 

Who’s that Green-Eyed Monster in my Mirror?

April 4, 2012

Your best friend starts dating a gorgeous, rich new man.

A colleague gets a promotion.

Your sister loses 10 pounds and looks fantastic.

Your new yoga instructor looks like a younger, hotter, fitter version of Giselle Bundchen.

Congratulations, right? So why do you have to smile through your teeth while fighting the urge to rip off her head? Welcome to the emotions of envy and jealousy. Wicked feelings that can creep up on you and turn even the most demure woman into a raging, irrational lunatic.

First, let’s distinguish between the 2 terms.

Envy: To bear a grudge towards someone due to coveting what that person has or enjoys.

Jealous: Apprehensive or vengeful out of fear of being replaced by someone else.

If you are envious of someone, you want what they have. If you are jealous of someone, you believe they can take something from you. For example, you may believe they are a threat to your job or your marriage.

Why am I writing about this topic? Because this blog is devoted to issues that affect women, and to put it frankly, women are jealous bi***es! This realization came to me a couple of days ago as I miserably complained to my fiancée that a colleague had enjoyed a career success that I felt was undeserved. I admitted I was envious. I admitted I was being irrational. He said I was being petty. PETTY?? Now that is just… Well ok, I was being petty. I thought about other instances where I had been jealous or envious of others women. When I really thought about it, I had to admit that I begrudged people success, happiness, beauty, talent, popularity etc. an awful lot, and had been doing so for years.

There are many types of envy/jealousy. You can make adversaries of strangers on the street, your friends, and your colleagues. And we have all heard of sibling rivalry. I have experienced them all. I don’t want to make it sound like I resent everyone’s achievements, prosperity and good fortune. I root for the people that I care for. But intermingled with the pride and joy I feel for them when good things happen in their lives, there is a tiny yet uncontrollable yearning for them to fail miserably (or at least flounder a little).

I clearly have a problem. But I know I’m not alone. I hear the way women talk about other women around me all the time. Bullying between girls as a result of envy/jealousy/insecurity starts in elementary school and continues well into adulthood. A group of women see a beautiful woman walking down the street, claws come out and she is immediately shredded apart. Her hair, her outfit, her makeup, her shoes, anything is fair game. My grandmother still gossips about her friends, and is still competing with her twin sister. Feminist Germaine Grier said at the Fem08 conference that what worried her ‘about the future of women’s equality and feminism was women’s own misogyny”. Is it true? Do women hate other women? Gender expert Susan Shapiro Barash, author of ‘Tripping the Prom Queen-The Truth about Women and Rivalry’ has conducted research and interviews with 500 US women. She has found that 40% of women say they have had another woman steal their boyfriend, lover, husband or job in their lifetime. 25% have done the stealing. 90% of women are or have been envious and jealous of other women in their lives, with 65% saying they feel that way about their sister or best friend. 80% have been victims of another woman’s envy or jealousy.

So why do women treat each other this way? One reason is likely insecurity. If a woman has a negative self-image or poor self-esteem she may not believe herself to be worthy of obtaining what the other woman has that she covets, or she may believe the other woman superior and able to steal what she has. If the other woman is someone like a good friend or a sister, then the feelings of envy or jealousy can cause a lot of guilt, thus contributing to poor self-image. Susan Shapiro Barash believes that women create rivalries with other women due to “scarcity of goods”. She says “We (women) are taught winner takes all — the sense that there is only one (glass) slipper, one crown. And therefore, if she has it, I cannot have it.” Apparently men are immune to this practice. They may be competitive by nature, but “because men have always competed for what they do, and women compete for who they are” they are able to shout obscenities at each other on the basketball court and then shake hands afterwards. To women, being the thinnest, the most beautiful, the most successful, the richest, or smartest will help to define them and so these titles are so coveted that they are willing to push each other under the bus to achieve them, and if they cannot they will sure as hell resent the hussy who beat them out.

Envy and jealousy are natural human emotions that everyone has experienced at one time or another. But where do they get you? Wishing somebody else ill will for something that they have just wastes time that you could be spending making good things happen for you, and could potentially damage important relationships in your life. More importantly, isn’t it time that women started lifting each other up instead of holding each other down? Perhaps if we start cheering each other on and celebrating each other more of us will have the self-confidence and drive to love and believe in ourselves and strive for what we want out of life. And then we will have less to begrudge others for.

It’s all on you, Baby!!

April 3, 2012

Happiness. It’s something that most people strive for, yet often cannot define for themselves when asked to. Happiness means different things to different people, and frequently our own notion of what yields happiness changes throughout our lives as we grow and change. Some seek happiness through their relationships, some through career or financial successes, others through physical fitness or outward beauty. Happiness is subjective. Your interpretation of happiness will determine if you will achieve it in your lifetime, and you may be happy at certain times of your life and unhappy at others.

The nature of happiness means that you need to identify what will make you happy. No one else can unearth your criteria for happiness. Following this, it is your responsibility to actively pursue happiness. One thing I have noticed about women, myself included, is that we very often look to others to make us happy. In a lot of ways, this is not our fault. We have been told since we were little girls playing with dolls that one day our prince would come and sweep us off our feet. The message from many Hollywood movies and TV shows is that we need to find a man to take care of us and ‘make us happy’. The media tells us that if we alter ourselves to be skinnier and more beautiful we will be happier, so we enlist the help of hairdressers and personal trainers and makeup artists and sometimes even cosmetic surgeons who are supposed to transform us and make us happily perfect. We want our careers to fulfill us, and often failing that we aim for nuclear families and children to make us feel complete and content. We buy and read books about happiness, hoping that the authors will be able to finally unlock the secret for us. I saw 3 people reading ‘The Happiness Project’ just last week. All of them were women.

Certainly our relationships with others, careers, health, even shallow things such as physical appearance and money can contribute to happiness and satisfaction. But arguably these things don’t make you happy. Being truly happy requires self-acceptance and a good self-image. A woman has to be sure of herself and confident in who she is in order to be truly happy. When a woman is reliant on others for her happiness, it shows that she lacks self-confidence. It is nice to have the man you love tell you that you are beautiful, but you shouldn’t need this validation to feel attractive. Getting praise from a boss for a job well done feels good, but you should be confident enough in your skills and abilities that you already know your value in your field. It is probably one of the hardest challenges for women, to accept themselves for who they are. It’s something I’ve been working on for a long time, and continue to struggle with. But trust me, it’s worth a try. You’ll be happier for it.