Rise of the Real People

Woohoo! Check out this photo!

(Not the dude - the gals who came straight off the beach to model suits for today's "everywoman!") Kudos to them for smiling, keeping their chins up and owning that stage!


Thanks to Jennie Yabroff of Newsweek magazine for writing this piece about them, and especially for her fantastic subhead: The thin and beautiful have had their turn. The hippest models today look more like the rest of us.

If I saw that every day on TV, in magazines and in the movies, I would be ecstatic, and would probably even feel comfortable wearing my own swimsuit at the beach again!

However, though this may be the start of a beauty revolution, the world is a hard place to change. Vogue, Cosmo, Marie Claire and Harper's Bazaar will not likely follow suit so quickly. The Dove Campaign for Real Beauty may have gotten the ball rolling (check out their new short film on their intro page - eye-opening), but - being the realist that I am - I'm not holding my breath. The beauty industry makes too much money to "go gentle into that good night."

I was particulary irked, of late, by the lead actress in Transformers. Yes, I did happen to buy this flick for le hubby for Christmas. I quite enjoyed the action and even the emotion of it - I do like action flicks. :) However, I don't recall teen girls in my school (yes, it was Cloverdale, but regardless...) who looked like that being considered "normal"... oh, wait! It's because this actress is actually 21 years old! It's really great to see a fully-developed woman, who was ranked #18 on the Maxim magazine Hot 100 of 2007 list, being portrayed as a teenager in last year's arguably most-anticipated action movie. {*sarcasm*} I love even more that she was nominated for 3 Teen Choice awards, one of them for, get this, "Best Liplock."

I know that when normal women like me complain about girls like this, people think, "Meghan, you're just jealous." But I can honestly say that I'm not. I am sad that men and young girls are being conditioned (actually, let's be more accurate: brainwashed) into believing that their perfect mate and self-image (respectively) should reflect this well-endowed, "perfectly"-shaped and extremely RARE ideal. It's insanity! And it's impossible for 99.9% of women on this planet.

As a result, the real women in this world are stuck, then, with two options: Do EVERYTHING HUMANLY POSSIBLE to live up to this expectation, even if it means hurting yourself in the process. Or, dig down deep to find out who they are meant to be, and do your best to show the world the spirit and soul God gave you.

It seems obvious, doesn't it? But we usually choose the first option. It takes a huge toll, but in the mind of an impressionable young woman, the unhappiness and lonliness surrounding the quest for the perfect boobs/butt/hair/lips/thighs/nose/chin sure beats the unhappiness and lonliness brought about by the strange looks of the "perfect" girls and their perfect little social snub, and the lack of respect from the guys conditioned to think that if we're not a bleached blonde with double Ds, we have nothing to offer.

To top it all off, even the movement toward "real models" needs a little tweak. This leaning toward these girls seems to really feature slightly larger gals, who happen to be pudgy or disproportionate by Hollywood's standards, but always on the "large"side.

What about us "real" girls who are an average size 8 or 12? Too big to be a model, too small to be a plus-sized model. What about the size Mediums, who get lost in the shuffle of the battle for body image rights? With no boobs or hips to speak of, let alone complain about, like the more shapely girls. Not necessarily worse, but lost is the feeling we get when we seem to be passed over for a chance to speak up about how we feel about ourselves. The bigger gals think we're thin and must feel great, while the teensy girls think we're big-boned and must always be longing to lose that last 15 or 20 pounds. Growing up like this was, for me, a little confusing. After all, I couldn't get any slimmer - my body's not made that way. But I lived with this awareness that I still wasn't "perfect enough" because of my height and size.

That's my few cents on all this stuff. I want to see a runway filled with seemingly shapless girls who would otherwise be pining away in silence for some acknowledgement that we exist, that we don't fit into that ideal either, not matter what the big girls or tiny girls think.

Hangin with nana

Ok, no one likely cares to see/hear about my daughter (I mean dog) as much as I do, but my MIL sent a pic that she took when she was dogsitting last weekend and I fell in love - again.

The purge

Other than quitting the pub, and Facebook, I'm in a major purging and trusting for God's provision phase. I stripped my closet bare last week, cleaned up our room, I'm just realizing that so much "stuff" is actually not making me feel more fulfilled - it's what stresses me out. So I'm responsibly purging all that can stand to go. I think it's the Smithers mentality rubbing off on this Lower Mainland girl. I think the reason Smithers appealed to me so much is the quietness, the stillness of it all. Now that we're not going, it makes me realize I can have the same kind of life here. I just have to be more conscious of what I hold dear. As our wedding verse says, "For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also." It's proving true right now.

In the same vein, Wayne is also purging - he quit his dream job today ay CN Rail to go back to Vitality. He'll be back to Monday to Friday, the office is 5 minutes from home, we can get back to a regular church schedule (maybe even a LIFE group? GASP!), he'll feel less crappy about how he's being treated and there's lots of room to move up. I am so blessed to have a man whose automatic desire is to do what's best for our family - he's the most unselfish man I've ever met. I just want to see him happy. He is making dinner for me right now. It was my birthday yesterday - 26! - and he left flowers on my chair this morning when I came back into my office from a meeting. I got some real goodies for m'anniversaire and I intend to photograph and post them to show them off. Stand by!

The Rise of Raunch

This article was sent to me by Ann-Margret (thanks!) Goes hand-in-hand with one of my favourite blogs: Modestly Yours.

What ever happened to us?

Simile of the day

I love this. It actually made me self-analyse (!). Which am I?

From Gluten-Free Girl's blog, re. "misbegotten vegetables"

"Some vegetables are easy to love. Carrots, tomatoes, cucumbers in season? These are no-brainers. Summer vegetables are like those young women who wear shirts with nothing left to the imagination and their pants hanging too low. It’s easy to see what those have to offer.

But winter vegetables, all the knobbly roots? They’re like the smart girl in school, the one with her own sense of style: thrift-store button-down shirts; old slacks; wacky suspenders; a bowler hat. You think she’s too weird for your time. But when she starts talking, and you find out she’s a smart ass, and she doesn’t give a damn if you even like her? Suddenly, she’s far more attractive than that other one.

Summer vegetables are like modern movies. Winter vegetables are witty-banter movies from the 1930s, where dialogue and long looks smoldered. The kiss in that final scene was far sexier than too much skin, any day."

I think I try to give the appearance of a conservative summer vegetable, while carefully guarding my true identity as a winter.

Et toi?

Why she does not want to get married

I stumbled across this article today on TheSoko.com. I realize now that this post will be SUPER long if I post the original article, plus my response to it. So I've linked hers and typed out my response. I sent this response to her and hope she replies. Even if she doesn't, I hope I got her to start thinking.

****

I totally see where you're coming from, Miss Pappin. I understand that the marriage stereotypes are overwhelming, especially to those without the piece of paper and stressful wedding day memories. Weddings are expensive, time-consuming, and cause fights you wouldn't otherwise have among family members. And marriage is hard work - why WOULDN'T an independent girl who can take care of herself and her cat just fine, thankyouverymuch, want to keep her freedom, sanity and prerogatives intact? Why would she want to be accountable to ANYONE when she could have and do everything her way, all the time?

Have you ever stopped to think that maybe marriage is not about putting up with the morning breath, money disagreements and cleaning the pool? Maybe it’s about character-building. Maybe it’s NOT about who makes you “the happiest.” Maybe it’s about who helps you develop into a more giving, compassionate person, as you grow old with that person you love?

Have you ever thought that maybe the divorce rate isn’t so high because people are unhappy and chose the wrong partner, but that THEY have given up on BEING a good partner and expect too much of their spouse? What is marriage if it does not require commitment, hard work and unconditional love? Is it supposed to be the fairy tale ending, like Cinderella? There’s a reason you never see the sequel to Cinderella, Snow White or Sleeping Beauty: once the honeymoon is over, it’s back to real life. And real life is hard. Prince Charming scratches himself, leaves his socks lying around and shavings in the sink. Cinderella is anal retentive and turns into a screaming banshee 4 days out of the month! When two imperfect people join together in a public ceremony declaring their love and commitment to one another, they should EXPECT that their lives won’t merge with ultimate ease.

Women and men are often thought of as two different species (Mars vs. Venus, Waffles vs. Spaghetti, etc. etc.). Try, then, to make the marriage between an antelope and an elephant work efficiently and without major issues. Sure, they can co-exist peacefully. But they both have different enemies, different likes and dislikes, different routines, needs and desires. How could you not expect them to have issues when trying to maintain a relationship? No, the divorce rate is not reflective of the amount of unhappy people choosing the wrong partner. It reflects the amount of people unwilling to fulfill their OWN vows, who, in “good times and in bad,” refuse to stand by their man/woman and stand up for the family unit they created when they joined in holy matrimony. If that doesn’t show poor character, I don’t know what does (all this barring, of course, serious and safety-related issues for breaking up a marriage: physical, emotional, mental or sexual abuse of a spouse or child). The stats you quote from the book “Adultery: The Forgivable Sin,” seem awfully high. It makes me wonder how each of those 80% of marriages that suffered through an affair got to such a low point that one partner sought validation, sexually or otherwise, outside his or her home. Adultery is not the problem. Disintegrating marriages and lack of commitment ARE. Adultery is merely a symptom of a bigger problem in a relationship.

“The urge to stay single” should mean just that – staying single. Not living together without being married. Not “hooking up” or having “friends with benefits.” Because then, no matter what anyone says, a woman in that position is not liberated. She is being used. There is no commitment there to prove any man’s intention of sticking around. And at that point, the independence a “single” girl like that has worked so hard to maintain is seemingly lost, since she is now merely a “provider of services” and, at best, a live-in (and unpaid) housekeeper.

The fact that couples relate to sitcoms and movies that project this stereotype is a sad state of affairs. Just because the wife on “King of Queens” or “According to Jim” treats her husband like an idiot does NOT mean marriage is that way. In fact, it just gives women the opportunity of a lifetime to blow the stereotype out of the water! Let a man experience a woman who genuinely smiles when he comes home, respects his opinion and – gasp! – his FEELINGS. I’d like to see that man show up at the water cooler the next day with something to complain about. I bet he’d be gloating about the satisfaction he receives from the loving woman he chose as his bride some 10 or even 20 or 30 years ago. And in turn, as an automatic byproduct, I’d be willing to bet that she receives a bouquet of tulips “for no reason,” a love note on her mirror or a foot rub while they watch a DVD. Acting lovingly toward our men proves to them that they’ve made the best choice in the world to marry the woman they did – and it sure makes it easier for them to forgive our crabby, or “bitchy,” as you say, days of the month.

I absolutely respect your decision to remain single, Miss Pappin. For a long time, I thought I would stay that way, too. But please keep in mind that marriage is not just “visions of white gowns, flowers and a tall, dark and handsome husband” and “a dog, cat, pool, mortgage and complaints.” It is a decision made by mature adults who are willing to move forward with an attitude of mutual service toward one another and their children. It is a decision to consider everyone around you better than themselves and worthy of working your hardest to love them and provide them with a relationship based on ultimate trust and grace.

You truly are missing out.

Purging feels so good

Other than quitting the pub, and Facebook, I'm in a major purging and trusting for God's provision phase. I stripped my closet bare last week, cleaned up our room, I'm just realizing that so much "stuff" is actually not making me feel more fulfilled - it's what stresses me out. So I'm responsibly purging all that can stand to go. I think it's the Smithers mentality rubbing off on this Lower Mainland girl. I think the reason Smithers appealed to me so much is the quietness, the stillness of it all. Now that we're not going, it makes me realize I can have the same kind of life here. I just have to be more conscious of what I hold dear. As our wedding verse says, "For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also." It's proving true right now.

In the same vein, Wayne is also purging - he quit his dream job today ay CN Rail to go back to Vitality. He'll be back to Monday to Friday, the office is 5 minutes from home, we can get back to a regular church schedule (maybe even a LIFE group? GASP!), he'll feel less crappy about how he's being treated and there's lots of room to move up. I am so blessed to have a man whose automatic desire is to do what's best for our family - he's the most unselfish man I've ever met. I just want to see him happy.

He is making dinner for me right now. It's my birthday - yip! - and he left flowers on my chair this morning when I came back into my office from a meeting. I got some real goodies for m'anniversaire and I intend to photograph and post them to show them off. Stand by!

What is required

So I have come to the end of my rope. My soul cannot take any more bashing from the 16+ hours per week I spend as a servant, ahem, I mean server. Working at the neighbourhood Irish pub would be great if I was young and single again, and if it were my only job. But it just takes too much from me. And I can never replenish the energy, physically OR spiritually.

Going to church last week, the first Sunday of the New Year, I received a release from God, loud and clear, from the monetary and emotional obligation I carted around with me regarding my weekend employment (hm, that does sound more racy than it actually is).

Listening to the speaker, Mika Kostamo, our Youth Pastor, I realized the lack of focus I have in my life. I mean, for the love of God, I work at Focus on the Family Canada. And I can't even sit still during a church service to absorb all that the Lord has to offer me in that hour-and-a-half...let alone the rest of the week? What a slap in the spiritual face.

Among the many profound and, I'm certain, Spirit-led, things that Mika spoke about that morning, he discussed the race of life, the race toward Heaven that God spurs us on to win. I feel like I spent years training for that race: quesitoning, challenging, submitting, accepting, following, learning. But then, just as the starting gun was about to crack the still, tense air, I chickened out. Why? Fear. Fear of Failure.

Long before I even acknowledged my Saviour (I was just 18 then), I carried this fear of failure with me. It seems to be that "special" part of me, of my specific, nagging sinful nature. Being publicly embarrassed or reprimanded or ridiculed makes the walls around me close in, makes my heart pound, makes my blood boil. It is this part of me that I knowingly worked to abolish in those periods of spiritual training. But to this day, it remains. As Pastor Kevin said during yesterday's sermon, that nature, that part of us will always be there, waiting to take control of us once again. Yet, how can we expect to keep it out of the limelight if we don't continue to condition ourselves for the race we are called to run?

In Mika's message, titled Habits for the Journey, he had the entire congregation practise "centering prayer," a sort of Christian version of meditation. We stood together, closed our eyes and took note of our surroundings, the structures supporting us, the sounds of people and electricity flowing through the building; then we slowly sat and rested, and allowed ourselves to "be." Just rest. And "be." In our mind's eye, we envisioned the empty cross, began to focus on it, on Jesus. Every time our minds wandered, we were to draw it back to the cross. To Him.

What a sweet, precious time. Why can't I do this on my own? Why have I not thought of this? It feels so natural, so perfect, so right. I don't always need a "shopping list" to bring to the Lord. In fact, I'm fairly certain He prefers I don't have any lists when I approach Him. Learning to come before the Lord without an agenda, without a timer set so I don't go "overtime" in my devotions and miss out on any of "life," was one of the most beautiful, peaceful and rejuvenating things I have ever done in my journey.

Going to church has become especially difficult since I worked so late at the pub Saturday nights. I needed the sleep, and I know God understood. I needed the home time, since Saturdays were spent cleaning, grocery shopping and/or cooking/baking. And now, with freelance work starting to roll, I can't do it all.

And so it is with a leap of great faith that I hand in my letter of resignation this Friday. Le hubby sees it in my spirit, in my body language, in my now consistent tears: I cannot do it any longer. We are suffering because of it. I suffer because of it. The money sustains our house, but it is rotting my insides. And what use is that?

I was reminded of our wedding Scripture today, during all of this. Luke 12: 22-34 says:

Do Not Worry
Then Jesus said to his disciples: "Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat; or about your body, what you will wear. Life is more than food, and the body more than clothes. Consider the ravens: They do not sow or reap, they have no storeroom or barn; yet God feeds them. And how much more valuable you are than birds! Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life? Since you cannot do this very little thing, why do you worry about the rest?
"Consider how the lilies grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you, not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today, and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, how much more will he clothe you, O you of little faith! And do not set your heart on what you will eat or drink; do not worry about it. For the pagan world runs after all such things, and your Father knows that you need them. But seek his kingdom, and these things will be given to you as well.
"Do not be afraid, little flock, for your Father has been pleased to give you the kingdom. Sell your possessions and give to the poor. Provide purses for yourselves that will not wear out, a treasure in heaven that will not be exhausted, where no thief comes near and no moth destroys. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also."

Where my treasure is, there my heart will be also. At the pub, my treasure is in my cashout at the end of the night. I must drop my heart down the chute and into the office safe with it, where it remains each weekend, cold and dark.

***

Everywhere I turn, I am being nudged in His direction. Into His comforting and restful arms. In Psalm 127, He says, "Unless the LORD builds the house, its builders labor in vain. Unless the LORD watches over the city, the watchmen stand guard in vain. In vain you rise early and stay up late, toiling for food to eat— for he grants sleep to those he loves." So you see? I am not in His will. His will is for me to follow. To take comfort in Him. To trust in His provision. To understand that though we may not see how it will come to us, He will show us what He deems enough, until we take that step, so He can show us what's around the corner. After all, if he shows us what's coming next, we may get scared and chicken out - again.

***

Article: Confessions of an ex-Shopaholic

Foodie

I wonder if it's too late to start a new career?

There's no describing the joy I get from watching almost every show on my beloved Food Network. I love Alton's random ingredient explanations...

...Morimoto's broken English...

...and Batali's Crocs on Iron Chef America;

...I love Jamie Oliver's: gardener, accent, kitchen, quirks, and recipes;

...Anna Olson's delectable delights on Sugar and now her new show, Fresh;

...Chef Michael's Smith's Canadian way on Chef at Home;

...Anthony Sedlak's energy (but not his repetitive gesticulations!) on The Main;

...and Lynn Crawford's attitude and ideas on Restaurant Makeover (this gal is currently the only female Executive Chef at Four Seasons worldwide).

Although Giada could stand to wear some less revealing tops, and could pronounce Italian ingredients without the put-on Italian accent (i.e. pan-cetta vs. pan-ce-TTa!), her cooking really is spectacular.

My favourite, though, and I don't catch this show much, is The Barefoot Contessa, with Ina Garten.

This former employee of the Office of Management and Budget in the White House stumbled across her love for creating and cooking food, as did I, and is so inspiring to me. With an inviting, genuine smile on her face, she is constantly making delicious concoctions for her friends and family, especially her hubby, Jeffrey. He often arrives home after long business trips famished, with his arrival, of course, timed precisely to coincide with the "ding!" of her oven timer, or the squeal of her stove-top kettle. She just adores him and he appears to appreciate her so much, as well. The constant look of pure enjoyment that is plastered across her face all the time is how I feel when I am in the kitchen, trying out one of Pioneer Woman's new recipes, or one of Remy's slow cooker concoctions, or flipping through my Williams-Sonoma Bride and Groom Cookbook (one of the best I have!).

I also enjoy cooking for Wayne - in fact, knowing he'll sit down to a meal I lovingly prepared is enough incentive for me start prepping dinner right after lunch. Knowing my man's tummy is satisfied makes me feel super and I really didn't know this part of me existed until I had my very own kitchen...with lots of wicked recipes to try out.

I have always known I wanted to run a B&B one day, perhaps in my "mid-life years," but part of me wonders if this is a possibility once we get posted with the Forces. My conflict would be that we are told to move every three to five years, as far as I know, so it's probably not the best idea to try and establish this type of business until Wayne retires in 25 years. Perhaps honing my baking and cooking skills over that time would benefit the business - most likely, huh?

But it feels like this creative side of me is slowly inching over onto my Type A side, the side that likes the clean kitchen with everything in its place, not the sink full of dishes and the empty pantry that results from some cooking endeavours. As much as I love organization and order, the creative outlet of creating taste has begun to take up more and more of my brain space in the last two years. The possibilities are endless (though the budget is not!) and as I discover new foods and new tastes, new doors continue to open into cuisines and cultures I've never explored! I just discovered that I LOVE asparagus! And squash! And sweet potatoes! (But don't tell my mum, because she never could get me to to eat them...) This may sound lame to others, but it's true breakthrough for me.

I don't think I could take the pressure of culinary school (it's like Boot Camp for food!) - I think of myself more as a cook than a chef. I think approaching food from an academic perspective would really ruin it for me, since for most of my life, I've lived academically (I'm a big skeptic - if you can't prove it to me, I won't believe you). Research and facts are solid truth and a safe bet - which also ties into my fear of risk-taking. (I guess you can tell a lot about someone by how they work in the kitchen!) So this newfound love for creating meals will have to remain a passion fulfilled at home for the ones I love - and perhaps this is where the most enjoyment will come from.

Au revoir, Facebook!

Welcome to the new blog, one I intend to keep up this year. Not only to keep others informed and perhaps occasionally entertained, but also to keep me writing outside of work.

Today, a friend asked, "Hey btw, what’s up with you and Facebook? Tired of it, or choosing to be more “disciplined” in your internet use? I have toyed with the idea of closing down my profile, so I was curious as to what made you decide to do so."

Well, all you curious peeps, here is the answer:

"The first reason, which made me investigate my true motivations for using Facebook in the first place, was how annoyed hubby got when people he didn’t know too well, or people he hadn’t shared things with, asked him about issues or situations he hadn’t told them about. He, being anti-Facebook :o), “plays his cards a little closer to his chest,” doesn’t blurt out his issues and feelings like chicks (read: his wife) do. He kinda felt exposed (my fault) and mentioned it in passing, though I could tell it bothered him more than he cared to say. This made me wonder: do I need Facebook so much to the point where I alienate my husband and defend my right to put our lives on display for everyone to see? No.

The second reason is that yes, I totally spent too much time on there. I’d rather blog. At least it hones my writing skills. (No jokes, please.)

The third is that it became a little like high school – I developed "Friend-ships" out of convenience. You know how you realized who your true friends were once high school was over, because you didn’t see them all day every day anymore but you still kept in touch? I felt like I was wasting time on Facebook “friends” whom I really wouldn’t talk to in real life, unless I ran into them on the street or something. A false sense of…popularity, I guess. Also, I found myself taking my REAL life friends for granted, since I could keep up on their lives through their profiles, instead of through meaningful conversations and even intentional emails. Not cool for me.

So there you have it. I still liked Facebook, but this is what I felt I should do. And God didn’t argue me on it when I asked Him. So it felt right."

And the best part is the liberation that comes with it! I no longer am bound by the Facebook fad. And I know I am better for it.