Pre-wedding

I'm in California and I'm hung over. And the wedding is today. My trusty board friend and I overdid it a little last night, and because we're not 22 years old anymore, we feel like we've been hit by trucks. She's napping, I'm drinking Gatorade.

Man, hangovers used to be funny, or at least a source of pride that you went out and partied last night, wooo! You know? Now they just make you feel like a jackass. The wedding's at 6:00; it's 1:30. Less than five hours to pull our asses in gear.

But let me talk about the airport, because it was a really special experience for me.

I arrived at 3:15, with my flight leaving at 5:50. I get to the kiosk to plug in my information so I can avoid the devastatingly long line to check in. I pull out the two sheets of paper I had printed out with all my information, only... it had none of my information. I, in my wisdom, had put my complete faith in technology and had grabbed the pages from the printer without bother to check them, where I would have noticed that the only thing that came out was the fine print, and nothing of importance.

So I took the long route, entering my name, my credit card, my passport, my destination, and eventually the kiosk asked me a question that stumped me. But not before revealing to me that my boarding pass had me listed with an error in my name. Basically, rather than Jendra Dammit Berri, it said Jendradammit Berri. Don't people get barred from entering planes with that sort of thing wrong?

So without my flight number, booking reference or, you know, anything, I meekly got in the bitterly long line and fretted. And when it came my turn I could only apologize for being such a nuisance while a woman asked me question after question that I couldn't answer, or answer in full. But I got my pass, and Jendradammit was ready for customs.

I was wrong to feel a little soul-crushed by the first line. The customs line was very exciting, in a holy-shit-I'm-going-to-have-to-set-up-camp-and-live-here-because-the-line-is-so-long kind of way. Plus the guy in front of me started singing indiscernible songs, which always adds a sense of facepalm to any undesirable situation.

But eventually the line did end and we were all then ushered into a second long line. Then after customs, security, which is always fun. You get to take off your shoes and partially undress and then scramble afterwards so you don't stall anyone else.

I arrived at my gate. And then after 20 minutes an announcement was made that my flight was leaving on the other end of the terminal at a different gate.

By the time I landed at 8:00 Pacific time (11:00 in my head), I was a tad wired. I'd consumed only caffeinated drinks and a slice of banana bread. I met up with my board friends and we drank wine. Then we went out with the bride and groom and drank shots.

Hence the hangover. We've been having fun. We've been slowly dying. There's more to come. Frig, the wedding hasn't even happened yet.

My favourite

The week is whirling by in a sea of crappy weather and no groceries. I wonder if the Dude and I will ever grow up enough not to let the house run out of food. This just keeps happening. We have to go together, to have enough arms to carry all the food home. So that's probably why we keep screwing it up.

Anyone ever take their cat to the dentist? Smokey's going on Monday. Well, he's going to the vet's for a dental consultation because I think he's experiencing tooth pain. But I like to call it the dentist.


I think about when the time comes when I will have no cats. Smokey is 17. Frankly, I wish he'd live forever. But if I get another couple years out of his diabetic geriatric fluffy ass, I know I'll be lucky. I can't imagine life without him.

Will I get more cats? Emotionally I would want to because I do so love kitties, but somehow it feels like so much responsibility. This coming from someone who's been caring for aging cats on her own for years, and from someone who wants children. And isn't that plain silly considering how old I am? But it's true. Or maybe it's the undesirable feeling of starting over.

I have the cat of my dreams right now. He's affectionate, sweet, doesn't bite or scratch people, is friendly and likes to cuddle. I don't want another cat. He reminds me of being a kid. He's the last little link to my childhood. I don't know if I enjoy the responsibility of cat ownership so much as I only deal with it so I can keep him. Or is that why anyone cares for a pet? Or begins caregiving relationships in general?

Or maybe I'm just convinced no other kitten will compare with Smokey or will generate as much love.

Right now he's sprawled across my lap. Every day after work we have these cuddle appointments. He's very insistent on them. Yesterday I was working late at my desk and he approached me and meowed and tried to climb onto my lap while I was working. As far as he was concerned, I was done and it was time for Smokey.

One of my favourite things to say is Smokey is my favourite. My favourite what? Just my favourite <3

11 Mother's Days

It's Mother's Day. It's a nice concept, meant to give people an outlet to celebrate their mothers, or the mothers of their children, people who generally are unappreciated throughout the year, or who you gave a lot of grief to growing up, and who are utterly indispensable.

The Dude is on the phone with his mother, catching up, wishing her a happy Mother's Day and getting her French onion soup recipe. He's making it for me tonight. I'm no one's mother. I also have no mothers, not even a grandmother. This day all at once means nothing to me, hurts me, and makes me dread and look forward to the future. Someday I'll be a mother, which I want very much, and I'll be without my own mother's guidance and support. It'll be bittersweet.

My mom liked Mother's Day. She was a single mother with an ex-husband who was trying and spotty with support payments. The Kraft Dinner and beans and wieners I ate as a staple in childhood was more of necessity than preference. She did her best on a tight budget. We didn't eat out often, but when we did it was a treat. We were always told not to expect much on Christmas, but I never recalled feeling disappointed. We didn't generally vacation, but trips to the beach and a cottage some years were adventures.

Once when my brother and I were young, my mom picked us up from our after-school daycare and we drove past our house. We were confused and bugged our mother to explain herself. All she said was that the car was making the decisions and we'd just have to wait and see where the car would take us. Turned out the car drove us to Pizza Hut. Then afterward, the car wanted us to go to the movies. My mom was cute like that.

My cats, Smokey and Jerry, were a surprise that I came home to one day. And she liked to fuss over their wellbeing. Mostly, if we fought in the house, she'd tell us to stop because we were upsetting the kitties. When we tore the wallpaper from my bedroom walls and the kittens romped in the scraps, she'd laugh that kitties think everything is there for them. She'd often wonder out loud if the cats were happy, and be concerned that they weren't.

She was shy about sex and talking about it. When we watched PG-13 type movies together, she'd want to fast-forward the mild sex scenes, even though I was 12. When I reached my menarche, she was happy, but in the end could only advise me to stay away from boys for awhile. When I required a bra, perhaps she was waiting for me to ask for one, but I had absorbed her embarrassment over the subject. In the end, I think it was her sister who prompted her to buy me one. I was put on the pill when I was just under 16 for medical reasons. This prompted our one and only sex talk, which she delivered on the way home from the doctor, and it went something like this:

"You know the pill doesn't protect you from STDs."
"Yeah, I know. I'm waiting till marriage anyway"
(This was a convenient stance for me to take at the time, being generally nervous about the topic as a whole and figured putting it off was a relief)
"Okay, but you might change your mind. You need to use a condom."
She cleared her throat and that was that. And she wound up being right.

My mom liked to tackle other important topics with me, like feminism, domestic abuse, eating disorders and body image, and empathy. Her strong messages on those issues still resonate with me today. She wasn't afraid to speak her mind.

When she got cancer, at first I was terrified. Then I reasoned there was no way my mother could die. You never think it could happen to you. I couldn't imagine a world in which she didn't exist. I couldn't see how my life could move forward if she was gone. So I didn't think about it. I wouldn't think about it.

Things started to matter more. Talking to her about my day, for example. My inclination was to be secretive. But I didn't want to chance missing out on conversations while I could still have them. One hug stands out in my mind. We were in the kitchen and she was standing there, bald from chemo, and I asked for a hug. She was happy to oblige and we stood there holding each other for a long time. And I love that memory. She was so easy to make happy.

Our last real conversation was in her bed. She had this habit of reading in her room, under the covers, and like a typical teenager, that was the only time I wanted her attention, when it was focused on herself. And I think she liked that. It became a ritual. A few months before she died, it was the summer, I was 16 and she told me how she felt about me as a person. I don't remember the conversation. But I do remember how she ended it. "I know that no matter what happens to me, you'll be okay."

And that stuck with me. When I feel lonely for my mother, or if I feel like I need her, that's all I have left. But it's something. I have her faith in me.

I miss her. Until you've been unmothered, you have no idea just what a hole it leaves inside of you. But it's left me with some unexpected gifts. With each passing year, I've inherited more and more of her traits. I have complete autonomy, and in the absence of needing a parent's approval, I default to being my mother's daughter. I think I'm more like her than I ever would have been if she'd lived. I channel her a lot. The strangest things have become funny. I take myself less seriously. I take morbid pleasure out of being embarrassed, a quality of hers that made me cringe when I was a child. I'm gullible, like she was.

But I'm stronger, too, because I've had to be strong. Necessity is the mother of invention. My mom, in her good parenting, me strong enough to sustain losing her. That's the irony of losing a good mother. You can withstand losing such a valuable person because they were so valuable.

My mom, on a dark day, once morbidly said, "I'm worth more dead than alive." In a response that only one her children would have replied, I said, "No mom, you have sentimental value."

Happy Mother's Day to you, Mom, wherever you are.

When the Right isn't right.

I hate Stephen Harper. I really, really do. I cannot understand how anyone would vote for his party, with him at the helm. People think "Conservative Party" and then vote without looking at this man's record in politics or the current state of the Conservatives. These are not the Tories of old. This is the Reform Party. Harper was part of Reform, a far-right fundamentalist Christian group.

They were fringe. They were a (scary) joke in this country because we value things like the CBC, Canada Post, healthcare and women's right to choose. Why would any sane Canadian want a party like Reform to run things? Answer: As a majority group, we don't.

Ah, but then there was the merge of the right in Canada, the name Reform was lost and essentially became the Alliance. Remember the Alliance, anyone? Run by Stockwell Day, the dude who doesn't believe in evolution and the one who wanted a referendum for everything? Then led by Stephen Harper?

Moving forward, There were then the PCs and the Alliance, the Alliance being the joke of conservative politics in Canada. They won 66 seats in their one federal election and then afterward there was the final merge with the Tories. Now who are they run by? A former Reform AND Alliance leader, Stephen Harper. Fantastic.

The new merge of PC and Alliance (Reform) headed by Harper won 124 seats, despite the fact they were now being run by a leader whose former party (which encapsulated all his ideologies*) had only won 66.

(*Please note the Reform party ideology opposed homosexual marriage, abortion, public healthcare, and was intolerant to French Canada and bilingualism.)

Shall we take a look at what this man stands for, as evidenced by his record in office?

1. He campaigned AGAINST healthcare. Oh yes. Click on the link. Read all about it.

2. His party is introducing new legislation on jail that will cost an estimated $11.5 billion over five years. Our healthcare needs attention, and he's relying on unproven legislation to reduce crime, even though it's been on the decline anyway for years. Link. Fiscally conservative my ass.

3. He's anti-choice. His party is not funding abortions to women who receive foreign aid. The G8 maternal and child health initiate for developing countries has a Christian moralist agenda, rather than a reasoned look at impoverished women's needs. His government wasn't even going to fund contraception initially. We have abortion laws in place here, but where he can he's helping to detract women in need from their right to choose.

4. He's flouted the laws of parliament. He's dissolved parliament to avoid A. a vote of non-confidence, and then again to avoid the will of the house in answering for Afghan detainee torture.

5. Draconian copyright laws, infringing on consumers (Basically you and me).

I challenge anyone who votes for this party to take a long look at themselves and their lives and values, and then ask themselves honestly if this man and his party speak for you. Are you comfortable with a man who does not play by the rules of our democracy? Who shows intolerance and a partiality to his own personal religious beliefs over unbiased data?

I've voted Liberal. I've also voted NDP and Green. I alter my votes according to who I think speaks for me, who I think is a sound choice based on their platforms and personal history. I think that is the intellectual duty of everyone who votes.

Every week it seems I read more and more angering political news that keeps me up at night. This has just got to stop. The only way it will is if people see past their comfort zone of voting conservative just because they always have and really look at the party as it is today. It's effed up. Get informed!


PS I'm seeing Iron Man 2 tonight. That'll make me happy.

Graphics of Awesome

A few good graphics and cartoons via STFU Conservatives and STFU Believers.

Awesomeness. Because if you don't swim, you won't drown!
Never mind that everyone swims...

Aw, look at the little stick child with no daddies while that other kid has two!
Which kid would anyone rather be?

A perfect response to whether creationism ought to be taught in schools.
Where do you stop, once you've settled on teaching myth?
Myth of course being any unproven story involving magical happenings
occurring before recorded history. Like King Arthur or Zeus.

Lastly, a delightful blip of logic from a guy with a cheeky expression on his face.
Heh, Jesus Christ's real name could have been, oh, I don't know, Joshua Goldstein.

That's about all from me today. Enjoy the cartoons!

Three Weddings and a...

Turns out the upcoming May 15-16 weekend is busier than the May 24. Wild. That is the weekend I'm going to a wedding in California. It's also the weekend of The Clothing Show, my road hockey team's charity tournament, Mayfest (Which I was hoping to sort out something with my job to distribute surveys to the deaf), and who knows what else will pop up. Even a coworker of mine wanted that weekend off, but two of us in our job description already got to it first.

Crazy. But out of all those things, the wedding it is, and I'm happy with my choice. 12 days until I leave.

I've not been to too many weddings in previous years. I went to a very good friend's wedding in 2004 and was her maid of honour. I went to a cousin's wedding in 2007. In 2008, I went to the Dude's stepbrother's wedding, and a friend of mine who finally was able to marry her fiance after living in Saudi Arabia without him for pretty much forever. I missed attending as a guest to one wedding in 2005 because I had appendicitis, and another wedding I was actually banned from attending in 2007.

(The last one was Buddy B's brother. Back in the day, I told the guy he need to shave his '80s moustache, cut his '80s haircut and quit wearing muscle shirts. He begrudgingly took all this advice and started getting female attention. He then got a nipple ring and I think a tattoo. Anyhoo, he's never cared much for me, despite the good advice. So when Buddy B was dateless for the shindig and I was going to go, it was kiboshed. Sometimes it strikes me as odd that I've actually been barred from attending a wedding.)

Anyway, this year will hold three of them, two of which will require extensive travel, and two of which are family deals. Some people hate weddings. Personally, I really enjoy them. You eat, you dance, you drink, there's cake and two people in love are now married. What's not to like?

The speeches. Actually, speeches can be a real buzz kill. But then it also depends on the speech. I once watched a man make AA amends to his son during a speech. Another time I watched a bridesmaid spill the beans that the couple had sleepovers prior to marriage in front of the very religious grandparents. I mean, you never know what's going to happen.

You'd think at my age I'd have more friends getting engaged and married, but I don't. I have two friends hitched. All the others are in relationships, yes, but engaged? Not so much. And I like that. Oh, I'd be happy for any of my friends getting married. But I like the lack of urgency the people I care about are approaching this milestone with. No one seems in a hurry. But I suppose were we all to hit our 30s, some of us may change our tunes. That happens.

Green with envy

April was a good month. My income tax refund came in and I got an extra pay cheque to play with, one of those delightful things that happens twice a year when you're paid every two weeks. I put some in savings, paid of my credit card, got some new books, and then I bought dresses.
May is back to business. And it's a cold drop back into reality when there are adorable dresses to be had. I was thinking how few shoes I own. I don't care about shoes so much. I like one or two versatile pairs that will go with anything and are easy to slip on. Dresses are what makes my credit card itch. And here are a few lovely girls in green and teal that are singing their siren songs to me:

Luckily for me, this gem is out of stock,
so it's safe from my dress gluttony.

This is one of the most beautiful and flirty dresses I've seen in awhile.
Look at the sash!

This would be the most practical dress of the three,
casual enough for everyday.

The second is my favourite and my first thought was, Oooh! I'm going to a wedding in a couple weeks! But then... it's mostly white and there's kind of a faux pas rule in place about doing that. And considering weddings are the only formal events I attend, this dress would be mostly just to have, rather than to wear. And $130 is a lot to pay for something that will hang out in your closet and make you feel wistful.

Ah, l'amour, l'amour.

I've also started wearing little necklace clocks. They're more fun than watches, which always give me a rash anyway. One is a little owl whose wings open up to a timepiece. The Dude has been calling me Flavor Flav.