Wednesday, 26 March 2014

Floating on the Surface

I would drown myself in the city colors if I could

Soaking in all the fluorescent signs and sky lights

Absorbing all the pixels of graffiti on the sidelines

Blending in with all the different types of dress styles

Becoming starry eyed looking into the bright street lamps

Dazing out on every star as a stamp on my brain

Allowing the moon to shine through the rest of me

Humming along to the bass & beat not that far away

Consuming all of downtown as if it’s my very own bar bay

Losing myself in the middle of a nocturnal crowd

Being me, letting myself relax and feel proud

I’m no longer outcast, I’m not even a stand out

Yet it’s all about me, allowing myself to go down

Deeper and deeper letting it be

Being the absolute happiest

When the city drowns me

Monday, 17 March 2014

Labels & other nonsense

This is the first time in awhile that I cannot asleep. I laid down about three hours ago at 11:00 p.m.. I did feel a bit sleepy doing routine night time check – oven off, furnace working, lights off, porch light on, door locked, teeth brushed, toilet used, glasses off, pillow turned. But three hours until now, I laid there tossing and turning, changing the positions of my body parts to what seems comfortable, but my mind is screaming at me that it’s not time yet. I guess if there’s a night that not being able to sleep is a good one, then this one is it. I don’t have a class until 4 pm and then I have Young Adults at 7 pm so I can sleep in all I want, feeling good about the fact I have no homework or assignments to do. So, up goes the lid on my laptop and up opens Microsoft Word on my screen with the blinking curser awaiting me.


I’ve been thinking about labels lately. Labels of people. Kind of like the status of their lives and what their known for. Kinda like Bonnie & Clyde, or the guy who spends his life at the gym, or even the lady next door who keeps quiet with her tens of thousands cats. Some are unjust, others stereotypical, or to me – inspirationally different. I think most kids start to develop labels in their younger years. For me, it was “I want the label rebellion”. And perhaps with the psychology behind things, I started acting like a rebel, being a rebel, and eventually the label was glued to my forehead. Describing myself in my elementary days as a tom-boy-up-to-no-good-monster is a complete understatement. I was not a nice kid and I liked to tattle tale. Yep. I was that girl who would do bad things but would tell on others when they did bad things. If there’s such thing as a mole in a group of children, I was it. Totally it. But I chose to do so, because that’s what I wanted to be known for. I’m surprised I even had friends – the very few I had. With many scraped knees, broken bones, and one badass attitude, it’s amazing how I’m quite different today.

But now. I don’t know what label I am. And that kind of scares me. Because as much as I hate looking back at my elementary/middle school years, at least I could say I knew who I was. I can easily say the labels of people I know – or make up ones if I don’t know or if I’m not sure. But for me? I really can’t identify myself.

I know who I would like to be. I have blog articles I read often posted by other authors, and I give them a label, and I say to myself, “It’d be cool to be them”. I have inspirational people in my head, words on my twitter feed, posters tacked on my walls, and I say to myself, “If only I could be just like them”. Because I’m in love with their label. Not them. Just their label. There’s so many people, so many different labels, that I force myself to read on a daily basis to remind myself that I am not THAT label that I want to be and that I should change – do something different. So people will know that I am that label - that I am of that character, and what they can expect from me.

But who am I to say such nonsense? Nobody even knows who I am. Not even myself! And what kind of label is that.

And I blab. And I write confusing things that nobody understands. And I sit here awake at 2:40 a.m. on a Monday morning wondering why I can’t sleep. And I listen to 8tracks alternative music, reminiscing the label I used to be. And I think about who I could be. And I don’t know what people think of me now. And. And? And.
 I think I’m okay with that.


My hands are falling asleep now. And my mind is telling me it's time.

Monday, 10 March 2014

Jumping Roof top to Roof top for Clara Hughes

So you're going to hear about this alot in the next couple months & I'm sorry for that (not really).
There's been alot of questions on what is it that I'm blabbing/excited/jumping off of roof tops about, so here's a list of common questions I've been getting:

What the heck is this all about?
Watch here:

The cool things about this Ride is that whatever amount of money that is raised in each community STAYS in that community. It's all about breaking the stigma associated with mental illness.

What on earth are you doing?

To get involved, I created a Giving Group online. So what does this mean? It means that I created a group online conjoined to this very cause and whatever money that I am able to raise, I get to chose a charity to donate the total funds to (the whole idea of the fundraising STAYING in the community). I chose the Swift Current Branch of the Canadian Mental Health Association.

Why did you choose the Swift Current Branch [CMHA]?

The reasons why I chose this branch is two fold. The whole purpose of Clara's Big Ride is to reach as many people. I chose the Swift Current Branch because it's not only closest to my hometown but it's also the least likely to obtain funds from due to the location. Clara will be running through Saskatchewan but no where near where Swift Current is. She wants to reach huge amounts of populations - not 'mini' cities - and I can understand why! So that's why I care and how you and I can make a difference. We gotta care about the little guys too! Also, I know many people like family, friends, myself, who could very well use the organization in Swift Current. Without it, could you imagine how many people will suffer as a result? People that we KNOW that will suffer?

Where can I get more information on Clara's Big Ride?

Right here! Click Me. I'm Fancy.
You can see the map that she has routed, list of events, etc.

What's the link to your Giving Group? I want to find out more.

Click this link (I made it just for you): Clicking this gives me satisfaction

I want to donate, give me the link so I can complete satisfaction and continue being awesome.

Okay, cool. Here it is: Enough with the creepy link titles. Just click me :)

You're extra awesome now.

Okay, I get the point. I want to donate but I'm in a hurry and your website confuses me.

You're still my favorite.
Click this button and fill out the form as follows:

Friday, 7 March 2014

Russian Roulette & World War III

I find the world disgusting sometimes. I’ve reached the point where I am unable to watch the news anymore. Because local or not, it seems as if the news itself is a depressant. Kind of like the alcohol of alcoholism, the needle to drugs. When is the last time you have heard something positive on the news that wasn’t aired at the last 5 minutes of the casting? It is truly terrible. Someone was murdered, hit and run here, abused there, house fire next door… and the weather forecast? Accurately depressing. Sports? There’s always a loser. And the worst yet? We talk more about the Oscars than about the concerns in Ukraine.

We are at the brink of World War III and we would rather talk about what actress’s outfit looked the best. Why? I have no idea. Perhaps it’s easier to judge than it is to fear.

If you don’t know what’s going on with Russia and Ukraine, I don’t blame you. Allow me to revamp your mind:


Protesting began in Ukraine in November of last year when the Ukrainian government abandoned a previously promised trade and political deal with the European Union in favor of a closer relationship (aka partnership; ties) with the Soviet. Critics agree that the Ukrainian President feels considerable amounts of pressure from Russia. Meanwhile, officials also have criticized Moscow of threatening trade restrictions and holding a $15 billion bailout to the Ukrainian president in order for him to leave the deal alone which was seen as definitely a precursor to a EU membership. So why does Russia care about what the Ukraine does and does not do? Well, it is incredibly rooted in the economics, history and culture. Here’s some basic reasons:

  • Moscow is a natural gas goldmine to the European Union – about a third of the imports of which half flows through Ukrainian pipes
  • Ukraine is a major market for Russian gas
  • Russia sees the Ukraine as a “travel size” of themselves
  • Without Ukraine joining, there cannot be a Eurasian Union
  • Russia sees Ukraine as culturally linked together – both historically and modern
  • Russia sees threat from Ukraine’s revolutions – ex: Georgia’s Rose Revolution, Orange Revolution, Tulip Revolution


Why does this all matter to us as Canadians? Well, when you have our Foreign Affairs Minister, John Baird, seeing the situation through a magnifying glass, calling Russia’s invasion of troops into Crimea (region in Ukraine) a lot like the Nazi’s invasion of Czechoslovakia in 1938, then we have a serious issue. Here is an excerpt from a CBC news article on Baird’s comparison []:

Asked by Solomon [CBC newscaster] if he was making a comparison to the Nazis, Baird replied, “When you have one country invading one of its neighbours, and using this type of outrageous and ludicrous rhetoric, it's hard not to." Baird noted that no Russian in Crimea has been killed during the protests in Ukraine.
In 1938, Hitler sent in troops to occupy Sudetenland, a region on Germany's border populated largely by Sudeten Germans. The takeover was one of the precursors of the Second World War.


And I don’t think I have to remind anybody of how World War II went down and how that impacted each and every one of us. As Albert Einstein once quoted, “I do not know of which weapons that will used in World War III, but I do know that World War IV will be fought with sticks and stones”.

We are on the brink of World of War III. Are we leaving it up to our politician’s to decide to act? Do we not have a voice over these concerns? Or is it easier to sit back and talk about how Ellen DeGeneres blew up Twitter on Oscar night? Or should we remind ourselves once more of just how depressing the neighbourhood is that we live in?

Take a moment to look at the bigger picture here.

We live in a disgusting world. Is the media solely to blame? Let me tell you how it is. It’s a lot like a well known game called Russian Roulette. So what role does the media play? They put one bullet in, spins the barrel, and hands the gun over to us. Are you going to watch the news today? If yes, pull the trigger just once. That’s what it’s doing to your mind.

Instead, try speaking up. You don’t need the media to reach into your brain and move around your thoughts like a mixing bowl. You have your own mind, your own concerns, thoughts, and feelings. But you also have morals. You can choose what you want to be depressed about. But you can also choose on how and what you’re going to act on – don’t pull the trigger.

Thoughts? I want to hear them. Comment. Comment. Comment.

Saturday, 1 March 2014

Where Your Last Name Matters

Growing up in a small town has been probably the highlight of my life. It’s unexplainable what it means to be part of a family with a plethora of last names. There was so many valuable lessons and lifelong morals that grew with me and it will be deep rooted in the system of my mind, my body, for a very long time. It’s amazing just how much traumatic loss has been blown in our faces and how, even though most of the time we were defeated, we were able to overcome them and be stronger than ever. The benefits are almost limitless to what a person takes with them as they grow up in a community in one such as I did. I am very proud of where I grew up and who I’ve become because of it.

But I won’t be going back – not to stay anyways.

To make it clear, I have nothing against my town or the businesses or the people or the stray cats. Well, maybe the cats but the point is, none of that is going to be the focal point of this post. Let’s draw that line in our minds right now so I’m able to continue writing what I have to say without creating a horrible status for myself for when I see the faces of my small town the next time I come visit. Deal?

Now picture this. The small town where you last name really DOES matter. It matters because that’s the status you’re given since the first day you’re brought into the community. Whether you’re 2 weeks old and part of a family ancestry in the town, or you’re part of a family that just moved there. You are being judged by your past, your family’s past, and every single decision you decide to make. And if nobody knows your past, they will make one up for you. Guaranteed.

You’re friends are already set up for you. Families can’t be friends with this family because X occurred 30 years ago or be seen hanging out with that family because they practice Y belief and that’s a bit weird. It’s not something we can blame on our parents for doing because it’s what their parents did, and so on, and even what the neighbours still do. It almost can be seen as a tradition – a “Family Act” handed to you at birth.

Highschool is an experience that you will hate more than what you will love. Sports teams are almost like a cult - one that’s hard to fit in with and yet hard to leave. Perhaps not for everybody. Perhaps for some is helps save them for going crazy on the pin-dropping ka-boom nights. But if you aren’t part of one you are almost seen as part of nothing. And everybody knows your grades despite the fake confidentiality rule that nobody will know or ever find out. And even though they will tell you it’s a non-judging, non-competitive thing, it’s a lie. Comparing grades with your status is pretty well like a black market. It exists and everybody knows it and everybody takes part in it more times than not at all. And if you’re the type that makes it clear that you do not care what kind of grade you get and what that means to your status of an individual, you know that other people will care for you – despite if they are you arch enemy or best friend.

Gossip is bigger than celebrity smut that gets blown up on CTV for fifteen minutes after the local news has been casted. He slept with who? She left him because? Who’s a money grabbin’ man eater? Which family just applied for welfare? She was married before? They just divorced!? Who just bought a new house with their parents’ money?

And we make assumptions. And hatred for one another. “He’s broke because he smokes too much.” “She doesn’t volunteer for anything because she doesn’t like living here.” “She got pregnant because of how her parents raised her.” And these things circle and they murmur and they leak through the walls of all of our houses, whispering one hundred million things because there hasn’t been anything new in town in what seems like when the train rails was first laid. And it lives with us until we leave, or die, and even longer after.
Small towns are also full of heartache. No matter how hard you try, no matter how much money you fundraise, it’s impossible to run away from losses. Recreation facility losses, business loss, and relationships too. It’s so easy to lose hope when despite every atom of energy you put in the belief that you’re school will NOT be closed because we are going to fight for it in every way possible to keep it open – you’ll be defeated. Despite conferences, interviews, and media, the district will be forced to reduce it’s health center’s hours to less and less to the point where it becomes risky for our seniors to live here. Each closure is seen as a loss. Next, it will be the bank. And then even the post office. And yet, our voices are muted. Our concerns, thoughts, and feelings do not matter because, in their minds, words on paper has explained our losses enough in the sympathetic letters that begin with “your concerns are being addressed but at this time we are forced to make some hard choices”… -- and if you’re still friends with the people you spent your whole life imagining you would spend your life with, then you should buy a lottery ticket. Because if you haven’t changed – they did. And you haven’t heard from them since you don’t even know when.
Everybody knows your income, you’re familiy’s medical history, and what kind of brand of milk you buy. Perhaps some even know how many hours you dedicated to volunteering at community events or how many pies you donated and judge you simply by crunching the numbers. Because it truly does matter to keep the community going. But shouldn’t privacy and consensus exist as well?

Perhaps people judge, gossip, and keep track because they get tired of dealing with all the dirty work. It’s being constantly thrown in our faces by both internal and external factors on questions like “is the pool even going to be open this year?” “young people these days never want to do anything”. So there’s always a sense of obligation and pressure and stress dangling in the back of our minds that it’s just easier to talk about then keep hidden behind a curtain.

Am I innocent in all this? Absolutely not.

But I think I’ve known quite some time now that I don't want my last name to matter anymore.