One Red Hot Country Mama!

My friend and I used to have an inside joke where we said "thank-you bad experience"! as a tribute to the lessons we learned the hard way. Whether it be an enemy that was bothering us, a plan that got ruined or a foible by either of us… we would see it in this lighthearted way in order to feel better. I have seen business executives call losses as a result of bad experiences, competition or bad decisions as "tuition" and they intended to learn from the tuition that they paid.

In the Dali Lama’s Art of Happiness it says:

Imagine what it would be like if we went through life never encountering an enemy or any other obstacles for that matter, if from the cradle to the grave everyone we met pampered us, with funny faces and the occasional "goo-goo" noise. If from infancy we were carried around in a basket (later on, perhaps on a litter), never encountering any challenge, never tested — in short, if everyone continued to treat us like a baby. That might sound good at first. For the first few months of life it might be appropriate. But if it persisted it could only result in one becoming a sort of gelatinous mass, a monstrosity really — with the mental and emotional development of veal. It’s the very struggle of life that makes us who we are. And it is our enemies that test us, provide us with the resistance necessary for growth.*

And he is right – it is not ONLY our enemies, but enemies certainly provide a part that is needed for growth. The Chinese government are certainly giving the Tibetans plenty of time to contemplate on this one.

Pg. 181 The Art of Happiness

There are a lot of great things about being a feminist. I get to go against traditional gender stereotypes and do things like own my own business for example. I also get to feel like I am doing the right thing for my two nieces, and for the other young up and coming girls and women. One thing that is sometimes not so fun, is that I get to see everything through a feminist lens. Which is a problem when it comes to enjoying popular culture.

For example, there is Iron Man, a movie that I watched with my boyfriend last night and really enjoyed. Interesting story, Robert Downey Jr. was amazing and the effects were astonishing. Except for the important and irksome part… the fact that the female supporting role, played by Gwenyth Paltrow was pretty much encapsulating every female stereotype there is.

• Downey Jr. got to do all of this very cool stuff and influence the world, whereas all she could do was support him.
• She was his assistant, and he ended up falling in love with her. A big reason why he loved her was because she took care of him – it didn’t show her having many interesting personality characteristics other than that.
• The only time she was helpful was when she was listening to Downey Jr.’s instructions.

All of the other females in the movie were either serving or having/wanting to have sex with Downey Jr.

After I came out of the movie, I wondered about what Paltrow thought playing this role – acting as such a clear stereotype. Then I heard her on BBC Radio this morning saying that she enjoyed playing the role with the heartbreaking line:

"I believe in the old saying, that behind every great man is a great woman."

You can see a previous post on this line. Basically the post is saying… what a stupid expression. What if the man is single? What if the man is gay? What then? And most to the point for me: what if it is the woman that is great, who is behind her? What if both of them are great? Of course I realize that these words are scripted by a PR agency somewhere, but PR is a very female profession, so – are we really still doing this to ourselves?

So, great movie, terrible female role. Thanks for nothing Gwyneth (and all of those who have created the Gwyneth personality and her roles). All of you ought to think about doing the right thing for your nieces/daughters/etc.

I have run into a number of people issues lately surrounding my business. Nothing world shattering, but just a lot of yuck. I remember as a kid, I would wish I could have parents like I saw on sitcoms, like the Cosby Show or Family Ties, where the parent would sit and chat to me about the situation, and set me straight about what to do… then in the end make me laugh and give me a big hug.  A few minutes later, the problem would be all done with a little gag at the end then the closing music plays. Yes, I still wish that today.

I wish that we would figure out that it is all just a misunderstanding… or that old friends are acting like old friends – and it really isn’t what it seems. Cue laugh track? Damn, that trick STILL doesn’t work. 

My niece and nephews (ages 6-10) were in Toronto for a little while this weekend, and we all went to a coffee shop together in my neighbourhood (Bloor West Village). This is a coffee shop that I have been frequenting for years – where I used to read the paper cover to cover on Saturday mornings with a strong dose of caffeine. I remember the words would blur and swirl some days since I was often hung over from a night out all night. Somehow the reconnecting with world affairs sobered me up. That all seems so long ago now. I went there last weekend and the guy there asked "where have you been?" because I am less of a regular since the "being cheap" thing started.

On the walk there, I could see the kids looking with wonder at the stores, the crowds and all of the interesting things that were happening between people. Usually I would just see these people as obstacles to where I was going, so it was fun to see it through there eyes – those Italian bike-shop guys, the dollar store, the dogs, the other kids – yeah, I guess it is pretty fun.

So – my sister was downstairs getting some hot chocolate, while my
niece and nephews (between ages 6-10) were all sitting, unsuccessfully trying to look
casual. Within a few minutes my nephews were bouncing on the seat, just like they weren’t supposed to bounce on the couch at home. The oldest one, a budding poet, who can be charming and adult-like, obviously wanted to be more like his 6-year-old brother then. "Shhhh" I said, and tried to get my little niece, the curly-haired chess champion, to join my little initiative to make her brothers look a little bit cooler.

So – I gave them a tip. I told them that when I don’t know what to do in a social situation, I look around at someone else, and I imitate exactly what they are doing. "Do you see anyone bouncing on their chairs?" I asked the youngest, the funny hockey star with bright eyes. "Just him!" he said pointing at his brother.

Soon after, the two boys were imitating a woman who was reading a magazine with her tongue stuck out. They were loud, and gesturing at her. They then took the poses of different people all around the coffee shop – a guy with his newspaper astride his legs, a woman with her nose buried in a book. Suddenly all of the people in the shop looked like interesting characters.

I then took the subway and hung out with a friend who now lives outside of Toronto and took a walk around Queen St. West. I remember coming to Toronto from Ottawa (a much smaller city) and being so amazed at it – but somehow I forgot that feeling until yesterday. I then rushed to my Earth-hour get-together, up Roncensvalles and realized that although it is just a 20 minute walk from my place – I hadn’t walked on the street in three years or so. It was suddenly interesting to see the people, hear the conversations and visit the shops which I had driven past a million times. Something about driving makes you not give things a chance.

Anyway, seeing the city through my nieces, nephew’s and friend’s eyes really helped me love the city more. And I think that is going to stick with me for a while.

The sun on the fruits and vegetables in Chinatown. The oranges stand out like the highlighted portions of a university student’s English notes.

Standing there, looking at the giant mobile of geese. Someone was taking a picture. A person from a smaller town from what I could tell from his hair-cut.

These are a couple of my homework assignments from the writing course I am taking at U of T. We are supposed to go around with home made journals. Some people make them out of bank books, other people just staple a bunch of paper together. It is cute to see the journals come out – they look like the broken toys in Toy Story. We are all recording different things that we see in day-to-day life. What we see, what we say, what we overhear others saying. The theory is that those things can later become great pieces of writing. Every class we read two pages of double-spaced writing to the class – taking the journal exerpts, and also taking inspiration from great authors that we study.

My teacher is an amazing writer named Michael Winter. Never having taken a creative writing course in my life, I was very intimidated by the idea of reading my stuff in public (I guess my decade + of web writing is public, but not the same). Winter, a Newfoundlander  without any sort of ego ax to grind and a very, very creative imagination takes all of the intimidation out of it. There are always feedback sessions, and things that we can improve on, but somehow the feedback is given in such a kind way that it is welcomed. Every week I am seeing my classmates all become better and better writers in their own way. It is actually quite amazing.

It has been a tough winter for me, but my little writing class has been the bright spot.  I have thought a lot about how we learn things. I spent so much time in classes where I was trying to figure out systems and procedures to get good grades with the least effort – but this is different. I don’t want to use the least amount of effort in this class – it is fun to work on the assignments and plan for the next one. It is fun to connect with the other students and hear their inventions. It has awakened something in me – something alive and interesting. Something I lost somewhere among those Accounting courses and working my way through my undergrad Quality Controlling reports at a large multinational consulting firm.

I was afraid that the course would be all about structure and rules and would make me write like a robot, but it wasn’t at all – although I understand from students that do this a lot that that this is an unusually creative creative writing course . I get the feeling that I had beginners luck and found the best possible course on the first try. If you are thinking of taking a course like this… go for it!